Calling of the Blood
by quickthorn
Summary: Cora's journey takes her from the Underdark to the icy wastes of Cania, but how will it affect her? Ch. 40 - The Knower of Places. The party encounter the mysterious but self-deluding Knower. Meanwhile,in Waterdeep...
1. Chapter 1 Beginnings

_Author's Note: I only got around to playing Hordes of the Underdark in spring 2008, so although it's been out a few years, I'm still obsessed. :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bioware or any of the characters created by them for Hordes of the Underdark, Shadows of Undrentide or the original NWN campaign. Nor do I own the setting or any of the quotes taken from the in-game dialogue._

_I own all of my original characters, my original dialogue, original plot additions and descriptive passages._

_This story is written in British English, hence some spellings may look different if you're accustomed to the US variant, and the story contains some Brit slang, particularly with Tomi's dialogue._

_Enough said. On with the story._

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**Beginnings**

Maeren the village midwife had never seen the like, in all of her years of delivering children. It was not the reluctance of the mother to hold or even look at the child which struck her as unusual. Sadly she'd seen such a reaction once or twice before. Nor was it especially strange for a child to have some discolouration on the skin, although the bronze mottling on her lower legs was strong enough to be some kind of birthmark rather than a rash. No, something else entirely had caught her attention. She carefully turned around the child in her arms, supporting her head, before turning to Priscilla, the mother.

"Would you look at that? She's got a thin little tail extending from the base of her spine. Why, it's almost like a rat's tail, save that there's a little triangular point on the end. What kind of man was the father?"

It wasn't the most tactful thing to say to a woman who'd just given birth, especially one who had been withdrawn and depressed throughout an unwanted pregnancy. Maeren regretted the remark as soon as it was out of her mouth, especially when she heard the woman's strangled sob. Still, the mother was hardly going to overlook a feature like that. Nappy-changing was going to be a real nuisance with this child, no doubt about that.

"I don't know _what_ the father was," Priscilla said quietly. Her voice betrayed something more than fatigue, a deep, weary bitterness. While she was speaking she did not look in Maeren's direction, and the midwife guessed that she did not want to look at her child at all.

Maeren remembered the day when the girl returned from a trip foraging for mushrooms in the woods, for she'd been in the village at the time, checking on a woman who was close to term. Late in the evening, Priscilla had stumbled along the pathway leading from the forest, disoriented and bruised, her dress badly torn. A few of the local men had gone out looking for her attacker, but never found him. They guessed that the attack might be yet another lawless act by a thief who'd been plaguing the village recently, poaching chickens and breaking into a few of the more isolated homesteads, but they never found him. Whether he was an escaped criminal or itinerant traveller, they never knew, but the thefts stopped as quickly as they had begun, suggesting that he'd either been caught by someone else or had moved on to prey on another area. Priscilla had been curiously reluctant to describe the man, but it was obvious she was not a willing partner, that it was a rape rather than a seduction she'd come to regret.

"Did the father... did he have a tail, too?" Maeren said carefully.

"I... I don't know. It was getting on for twilight - and when he caught me, he was behind me. But..." Priscilla's voice trailed off. "His nails... they dug into my skin like an animal's claws, and I caught a glimpse of his face just before he left me alone. I don't know what you'd call him, but he didn't look human - his eyes were glowing like embers." She swallowed convulsively, breathing deep. "No, I won't say any more: I don't even want to think about him. I've never told anyone as much as this because I was too ashamed of the fact that such a bestial creature coupled with me. Don't tell anyone else, will you?"

"It's no-one's business but yours. I promise I won't say a word," Maeren knew the suspicions and superstitions people could have around here, their insular nature encouraged by their narrow-minded old cleric. Why, half the time she wondered if he'd accuse her of being a witch someday, just because she was more effective a healer than he. She took another look at the child. Wrinkled though she was, as all newborns were, her drooping, sleepy eyelids didn't seem to be concealing any oddities. That was something in her favour, at least. The baby had the normal amount of fingers and toes although her nails were dark and oddly shaped.

"I can't keep the child," said Priscilla. "She's going to be a monster, just like her father. I can't love her, Maeren. I hated her even before she was born, I felt like I had a malign presence in my body, and now I know she's marked. What am I going to do?" Her voice was rising in panic.

"There, now," Maeren laid the baby down safely in the crib and went to the mother. "Settle down, love. It's always like this, you're worn out and your feelings are bound to be all over the place right now. Just rest for awhile. I'll keep an eye on the little one over here and then I'll bring her to you for suckling when you're feeling more calm."

"No! I don't want the creature anywhere near me. I won't be able to sleep knowing it's here in this room. Please, Maeren. Take it away... please."

_It. _ Maeren knew what she was asking, and her heart sank. It hadn't been the first time someone made a request like this, and each time, they'd start out by calling the child it, never he or she. Girls who had children too young, too early, older women whose pregnancies had happened while their husbands were away for a while. Regardless of how much she could sympathise with their predicament, she always declined: if the women wanted to smother their own child, they'd have to take responsibility for doing it themselves, and not while she was in the house.

"Take it away," the girl repeated. "I'll... give you some extra money. Everything I have. Just... make it go away. Please."

Maeren sighed. If she left the child here, then one of two things would happen. Priscilla might start to feel some natural mothering instincts when the babe cried for milk, even coming to love it in time, but she had a feeling this was the least likely scenario. Looking at the mother, at the desperate, almost wild look in her eyes, Maeren suspected it was far more likely that she'd come back another week to find out that the baby had died in its sleep quite suddenly, and she'd be the only one with suspicions about the real reason why. She raised a hand to her mouth, fingering the hare lip which had been with her since birth, an unconscious gesture which she made whenever she was feeling particularly troubled. Her features marked her as different, and that was one reason why she'd never married or had any children of her own, instead making a living from delivering the babies of other women. The baby was marked in a far more startling way than she, and she couldn't help wondering how it would affect her future.

She let out a sigh. "I'll take the child, for the moment," she said reluctantly. "I'll see if I can find someone to adopt her."

As she walked away from the shack with the small bundle wrapped up in her arms, she thought about where she could go next. She had an idea, but she didn't know how it would turn out. Just a week ago, she had gone to visit Helene, the wife of a paladin who lived in the neighbouring town. Good people they both were, but it seemed that parenthood was not part of their deity's plan for them. Twice before, Helene had miscarried, and this time around she'd carried the child almost to term only to deliver it stillborn. A mixture of intuition and experience told Maeren that that Helene would probably never bear another child, even if she were prepared to take the risk of trying again. She was still recovering from the shock and the physical trauma, but her breasts were still heavy with milk, ready to feed the child she had been unable to bear. Maybe she would be prepared to wet nurse an unwanted baby, and with any luck she'd bond with the poor mite closely enough that she'd want to keep her.

Maeren's greatest doubts were about Helene's husband. For a paladin, he was nowhere near as fanatical as some of his peers, being a down-to-earth and practical man who loved his wife deeply. Even last week, after Maeren had been tasked with giving him the bad news, he said to her in private that he was beginning to wonder about adoption. Maeren knew he would be thinking about a normal child, not one born of an cruel act with such a visible mark of wrongness upon her. The tail would always be there as a constant reminder of her origin and she would be marked out as an aberration, a freak, even if her adoptive family were prepared to accept her. Nonetheless, Maeren was painfully aware that she had no-where else to take her, and she could not feed the child herself. She had to try.

Maeren noticed the cleric walking towards her, the last person she wanted to see.

"Afternoon, Father," she said casually. She fought back the urge to look down: she knew that the blanket covered the tail adequately.

"Wait," he said in his thin reedy voice. "Priscilla gave birth at last?"

"Correct, Father."

"Then where, pray tell, are you taking the child?"

She looked the old cleric in the eye. "You know about the nature of this poor child's conception, don't you?"

"I do. A most shameful business."

"Yes. It's a real shame that she was attacked, I'm sure that's what you meant to say, and while this child is here she will serve as a constant reminder. I know of a lovely couple who have lost their baby recently, and I think they would be open to the idea of adopting a child. They are good people, religious too. The husband is a paladin."

"Is he now?" said the cleric. He appeared visibly disappointed that such a paragon of virtue might even be acquainted with the disfigured midwife.

"He is indeed," said Maeren. "Good day, Father," she said, walking on before the nosy cleric had the chance to quiz her any more.

Maeren only hoped that everything would turn out well. She looked down at the bundle in her arms. "It's hardly your fault who your dad was, after all," she said. She'd be sure to press that point home to the paladin, hoping that his sense of fairness would overcome any instinctive revulsion.

Her cottage was placed a short way outside of the village in the right direction for town, and she stopped by there on her way. As she walked through the door, cradling the child carefully, her terrier barked out a joyful welcome.

"Pipe down, Ratter, that's enough now," she said wearily. The dog stopped barking, but he still pranced around her ankles, the stump of his docked tail quivering frantically.

Maeren stared down at the dog, her mind whirling, then glanced at the little cabinet where she kept various tools of her trade. Bandages, rubbing alcohol, needle and thread for sutures, as well as scissors which were kept razor-sharp. Perhaps there was hope for the girl's future after all, but she'd have to suffer a little first.


	2. Chapter 2 Seers and Signs

_October 2009 - I have reworked this chapter._

**Chapter 2 - Seers and Signs**

"Do you think this soothsayer is any good?" asked Cora. As she walked along the winding streets of her hometown, she kept her usually swift stride at a more leisurely pace for Hanna, the heavily pregnant halfling walking by her side.

"So I've heard, and as ideas go, it's certainly no worse than telling the Captain of the City Guard where he can stick his job. You never know, maybe Madame Elista will predict what you should do next. There's got to be something better out there for you, heroine."

"Heroine? Do you know how much good my reputation has done for me? I get offered a job that's supposed to be a few stripes above the normal entry level, but all that means is wall-to-wall paperwork. File this, report that. And every single time I have a good idea, the Captain tells me it may have worked somewhere else, but it's not how they do things_ here!_"

"You can stop ranting now," said Hanna, grinning. "It's time to look ahead to the future, and that's _definitely _Madame Elista's department. If she can't give you some pointers about new jobs, maybe she'll be able to divine your one true love, instead."

Cora gave an explosive snort. "If she tells me it's the Guard Captain, then I'm in serious trouble. No, I doubt there's anyone for me."

"Why not? There's not a scrap wrong with you, apart from when you're being all grouchy like this. You're not so terrible looking, you know. Honestly, I'd kill to have curly hair like yours, and now it won't be squashed down in a helmet any more. Now that you're no longer working for the Guard you won't have to wear armour, and that's got to help with meeting someone new."

"I happen to _like_ wearing armour." _Besides, it's not the clothes that are the problem._

"Have it your way. Still, I'm sure there are men around who like to see a woman in chainmail. There's someone for everyone," Hanna said firmly.

"So says the happily-married woman with her first child on the way."

"Well, I met him when I was least expecting it, which proves my point - but here, it looks as if we've found the place." The house was set slightly apart from the others. A tiny but immaculate front garden was crammed with herbs which had medicinal or magical properties. Walking ahead of Cora, the halfling climbed the steps before vigorously rapping a salt-tarnished knocker in the shape of a sealion.

"If she's not in, you might just have woken the dead with that knock," said Cora.

"I hear she's old and slightly deaf, as it happens."

The door opened abruptly and a wizened old woman surveyed her visitors. Wrapped in layers of clothing in spite of the sweltering afternoon heat, her wispy white hair protruded from a bonnet. She leaned heavily on something which looked more like a mage's staff than a walking-stick. "Yes?"

Cora lingered at the base of the steps, letting Hanna do the talking. "Madame Elista? I was wondering if you could spare a little time for us..."

"I don't want to buy spices, pots, pans _or_ embroidery." said the woman briskly. "I'm not so old that I can't drag my aching body to market, you know. Keeps me alive."

"No, no, it's not... we're not selling anything. In fact we're looking to pay you for your, ah, services. Your insights. My friend Cora here, she's just been fired from her job-"

"- I _resigned_, actually," said Cora defensively.

"Cora? That's your name? Ah, yes..." As she spoke, Madame Elista turned all her attention on Cora. For a moment, Cora was reminded of the last time she had met a fortune teller. Whether she was genuinely gifted or a charlatan, Madame Elista shared that unnerving way of staring at her as if she was looking inside her very soul.

She extended a bony finger to beckon them. "Yes, I think I can help you. Come in."

They were shown into a small sitting-room, crammed with all manner of items yet spotlessly tidy: each potion, each scroll, each book was carefully ordered on well-dusted shelves. Cora sat down on a chair with intricately embroidered cushions, and a black cat immediately jumped onto her lap, digging its claws painfully hard into her thighs as it landed. "Ow!"

"Off, Baphomet!" the mage ordered before smiling mildly at her guests. "Creature of the dark, that one, but we seem to rub along together fine nonetheless." She shot Cora a meaningful look.

Cora's attention was diverted by the bookshelf close to her. Sandwiched between weathered copies of _Secrets of the Djinni _and _Snilloc's Snow Magic,_ she recognised a book called _Shadows of Undrentide_. She resisted the temptation to tell Madame Elista that a friend of hers had written the book about their travels. She didn't want to feed her too much information yet.

Above the fireplace, there was a painting of a black-haired woman of exquisite beauty. "What a lovely picture," said Hanna conversationally. "Is she your daughter?"

"No, dear. It's me, painted long before either of you were even born. It's just an old woman's vanity, wanting to remember how I once looked, but no matter. You are not here to talk about me, are you? Surely it would not be worth your gold." Madame Elista turned her attention back to Cora.

Feeling awkward under the woman's skewering gaze, Cora started talking. "I'm not really sure why I'm here, to be honest. Hanna told me that you have something of a reputation for divining the future, and my fortune has just taken a small downturn-"

Madame Elista held up a hand. "Yes, it has, but you are fortunate in many ways. Your life has been littered with many setbacks which turned out for the best in the longer term. Even at the very start of your life when you were a mere babe-in-arms, your future looked bleak, even hopeless, but someone was looking out for your interests."

Suddenly Cora had far less interest in her future than in her past. "Could you possibly tell me something more about that time? I was adopted, you see. I never knew my real mother or father, but I've always wondered what they were like."

"If you wish to know the names of your parents, I cannot tell you. However, it is obvious to me that you do not truly know yourself."

"Apart from my lack of a family tree, I know as much about myself as anyone else does," said Cora. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the gloves she always wore. "I'm quite aware of my strengths and weaknesses." _Good at swordfighting. Spectacularly bad at paperwork-based jobs. _

"Perhaps, but I doubt you have fully stretched yourself to your limits yet, nor have you seen the darkest side of your soul."

"Why in Toril would I wish to do that? I've always been taught to bring out the best in myself."

"To discover who you are, it will be necessary to face your... ah, personal demons, shall we say?" The old woman's face twisted in a curious smile, as if savouring a private joke. "It is there in your future, whether you shy from it or not."

Cora frowned. "I don't usually shy away from anything, but where will this journey of self-discovery start - and when?" She only half believed the woman, but now she was here, she might as well try to pin her down to saying something which wasn't entirely vague.

"You will leave this town much sooner than you think, and as for its direction, you will be given a clear sign. Have no fear about that. You have a restless spirit, child, and it will drive you to a place you have only heard about in legend... somewhere as dark as it is mysterious. You will face great peril, and I cannot yet see the outcome. If you are to succeed, two matters will be vitally important. You must take heed of your dreams, and you must also find travelling companions that you can truly trust. You cannot act entirely alone. Remember that, for I cannot stress it highly enough."

_Well, that's stating the obvious, _thought Cora_. I'm dressed like someone who knows what to do with a sword, and all of this could have been plucked straight out of Shadows of Undrentide_. She shot Hanna a sceptical look, and the halfling gave a faint shrug in response.

Madame Elista closed her eyes, and for a moment Cora wondered if the old woman had fallen asleep, until her frail hand raised once more. "Wait..." she admonished.

She waited. Cora could see Hanna shifting in her seat, and she guessed what that meant. By all accounts it wasn't easy for a heavily pregnant woman to wait too long before passing water. Leaning across the arm of her chair, she whispered to Hanna. "Emergency?"

"Not yet. I'll say something if it gets worse."

The old woman spoke aloud in a dramatic tone of voice. "That's all! Gone."

"Gone?"

The old woman opened her eyes. "I saw another woman of the Sight, briefly. She had an air of great sanctity and goodness about her, although I was unsure which deity she follows. I do not know her name, but I can easily describe her, for she resembles no-one I have seen within these city walls. Her features were elven in shape, yet she had skin as dark as charcoal, hair as white as milk. Eyes silver-grey like the moonlight. Do you know what such colouring signifies, girl?"

Cora's brows knitted. "The skin and the hair colour makes her sound as if she is one of the drow, but they're generally thought to be evil, aren't they?"

"Indeed. I believe they are, as a rule. Still, there are exceptions to every rule, however rare they may be. _ Always_ remember that," she said, giving her staff a tap on the ground for emphasis. Again, she gave Cora a searching glance. "This woman - she is inextricably linked to your future, of that I am sure, and I sense that she already knows who you are."

0-0-0

The two young women walked downhill towards Hanna's home, the summer sea breeze whipping their hair into wild shapes.

"Well, at least she let you borrow her commode to satisfy your overwhelming need," Cora said. "That was kind of her, though I'm not sure that anything else was very much use."

"Oh ye of little faith! There might be some truth in it, you know," said Hanna.

"I do have some belief in these matters. It's just that she was so vague, apart from the mention of the drow woman. I know she said there would be some kind of sign, but if I don't watch out, I'll be jumping at every little thing I see or hear. I don't intend to do that - I'm not _that _superstitious."

"You're not? Oh, don't give me that! What about the time when-"

Continuing their light-hearted bickering, they cut through the market square on the way to Hanna's house, Cora stopped by at a fruit stall, throwing over a coin in exchange for a couple of pomegranates before slipping them into her backpack.

"I used to love them, now I can't stand the taste ever since this happened," Hanna, said, patting her stomach with a rather self-satisfied air.

"And there I was thinking they were a fertility symbol."

"Ooh, in that case you'd you'd best watch out for all of those seeds, hadn't you?"

"I have a feeling it takes a little more than eating a piece of fruit, unless I'm very much mistaken?"

The clamour of a bell interrupted their banter.

"Hear ye, hear ye, I bear news from the north! Waaterdeep in periiil," intoned the town crier. "Drow raiders plaguing the citeeee..."

Even as Cora stopped in her tracks, her friend did the same. "Drow?"

0-0-0

As he walked up the stairs, Amadei could see that the door to his adoptive daughter's room was ajar. Within, he could hear rustling, as if Cora was tidying up or rearranging her belongings.

He had already heard the news about her resignation, for the Guard Captain had told him when they crossed each other's path in the street. The two men were usually on cordial terms, but Amadei felt more than a little irritation when the Captain had informed him that Cora 'tendered her resignation in language which hardly befits a paladin's daughter.'

_She never learned it from me, _he thought, but then she was an adult now, and had spent enough years away from home to make those carefully-schooled manners turn rough around the edges. Blunt though she could be sometimes, it was unusual for Cora to swear: he guessed that she must have been feeling particularly angry.

Pushing the door open, he saw that she was sitting on her bed: scattered all around her was a miscellany of weaponry, armour and other items suited to a warrior.

Looking up, she gave him a small smile. "I thought you'd be coming home soon. I've got some news for you."

Pulling up the chair by her bedside, he sat down. "I'm aware that you resigned from your post. I saw the Captain."

Resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, she leaned forward. "It's been coming a long time, you know. We had a personality clash, plus the job never suited me."

"I know you've been discontented for a while, but what about your sense of duty? I know the post must have seemed mundane, even dull after all your past adventures. Yet there's something to be said for the simple, unsung work of looking after the people of this town."

She sighed before answering him. "I know that. Maybe if I'd been out on patrol with the lads I would have felt I was doing some good... but sitting behind a desk all day? I wouldn't have minded so much if I ever made any real decisions, but I never had the chance. I've been taking care of pieces of paper, nothing else, and believe me, they couldn't give a damn whether I was there or not." She paused. "Look at it this way - now someone else can take my place. I can think of one or two others in the ranks who would be far more suitable."

He knew they could argue about what duty meant for hours: it was an old sparring-ground for both of them, and at least he could say that she had thought about the subject in the past. "Have you considered what you might do next?"

Before she spoke again, she glanced at the sword by her side. "Yes... I have, actually. Nothing very concrete yet, but I have an idea."

"Does this have anything to do with your belongings laid out all over your bed?"

Cora nodded. "Something's happening in Waterdeep. Not an all-out war, yet, but groups of drow are coming up from under the city to conduct assassinations. The city has put a call out for expert fighters and spellcasters who are prepared to come to their aid."

He guessed she was thinking about joining their ranks, but he wasn't yet ready to ask her: he had something to give her, almost forgotten in all the fuss over her resignation. "I heard about the troubles in Waterdeep from a messenger who arrived here today. In fact, he left me with a letter for you."

"Me? That's strange. I don't know anyone from there."

He brought out the scroll. "It's from Master Durnan, the proprietor of an inn called the Yawning Portal... you haven't been there before?"

"Never. The name sounds oddly familiar, though."

"I half-recognised it too, and one of my colleagues refreshed my memory. Durnan gained a measure of renown for having surviving an extended trip into Undermountain. The inn itself is reputed to be built on an entrance to the labyrinth."

"Ah. That does sound quite familiar... well, let's see what he has to say." Picking up a dagger, she broke the seal. It was only one small page, but Amadei saw her read it avidly: her brown eyes widened. She put it down on her lap and picked it up again, before passing it to him. "Read it if you like."

The letter was written in a looping, hasty script, as if copied many times over.

_Dear Miss Webber, _

_We have not met before, but I have heard tales of your past deeds, and I have a proposal that may be of interest. I write on behalf of the city of Waterdeep. Our city is in peril, and we need stout-hearted people who have a reputation for succeeding against difficult odds. Drow attackers are coming directly through Undermountain to strike at the leaders of our city. We need to find out why this is happening and resolve it. _

_In light of the inevitable risks, we offer a reward of 100,000 gold pieces for those who can get to the root cause of the attacks and put an end to it. If you are able to travel here, I will of course give you full details so that you may adequately prepare yourself. _

_I hope you are able to join us._

_Master Durnan_

"I wonder if I'm already too late, but I don't know... it feels like a sign," she said. "I was thinking about travelling there, but now, I'm even more convinced that it's the right thing to do."

"It sounds like a mission fraught with danger. I admire your courage, my daughter, but you're making a very impulsive decision here, at a time when you have found yourself at a loose end. Are you sure you're doing this for the right reasons?"

For a moment, Cora reminded Amadei of the girl she once was, before she ever left home. She rolled her eyes, looking more like a sulky adolescent than a woman in her twenties. "The raiders won't wait around for me to mull over all the pros and cons, will they? As for the dangers, if he's contacting other people, perhaps I'll be able to band together with some of them. I've been in this situation before, when I trained with Master Drogan. Everything changed overnight and I couldn't sit around procrastinating. I had to help, I didn't feel I had any choice."

"There's a huge difference, Cora! You were living there at the time. With the Waterdeep situation, they probably put out this call to many people, and I doubt that they expect all of them to answer. I'll grant you that it sounds a worthy cause, but I fear the reward will attract those who are motivated purely by greed. Mercenaries and rogues."

"Would it matter, if the job gets done? Look, I _know_ my methods differ to yours, and that's fine. I'm not like you... I can't be, and I've come to realise that I could never follow in your footsteps. I'm just not cut from the same cloth, and we both know that by now. All the same, all you those times you lectured me about following just causes, protecting those who couldn't fight back... I listened, you know, even when it didn't always seem that way."

The paladin walked over to her, and laid a hand on her shoulder. As usual, he felt a discomfiting sense of resistance running through his hand, something he was sure she was entirely unaware of. As usual he steeled himself to ignore the sensation, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go. Long ago, he had harboured private misgivings about taking on a child with such a dark-shrouded aura, just as someone might baulk at raising a wolf cub as a pet, lest it grow up to savage one of the family. Nonetheless, Helm had never given him a sign that his charity was misguided, nor had Cora given him cause for regret.

"I am immensely proud of all you've achieved in the past, if that isn't patently clear. I still cannot help worrying about you, just as any father would, and I'm not sure what your mother is going to say once she finds out that you're leaving again."

She shifted position, looking uncomfortable. "Yes... well, I don't really relish telling her, but it's beyond time I was leaving."

Amadei sat down by her side. "I assumed you were back for good. You have a comfortable enough life here, friends..."

Her downcast expression told its own story. "Do I? In truth, there are faces I recognise from when I was younger, but I'll say 'good day, nice weather we're having,' and after that we've nothing left to say. I don't know... somehow I just can't feel settled here. Hanna's the only one from my youth who's still a good friend, and she's going to be busy with that baby soon enough. I'm delighted for her, but I had a better social life when I was travelling with a kobold."

Amadei had heard so many tall stories about the strange people she travelled with in the past, the kobold bard being the most unusual of all. He had never met Deekin but he knew he would recognise him instantaneously, should their paths ever cross. Of course there was someone else from her past who she had once held dear, for entirely different reasons. The young man had travelled many miles to visit her at Drogan's Academy, yet he never spoke a single word to her now that she lived just a few streets away. "I suppose... the breaking of your engagement to Patrick could not have helped."

Cora shook her head vigorously. "Oh, never mind him! It was a pairing of opposites which was never going to last. Just like my time in the City Guard." Her mouth curved into something which vaguely resembled a smile, but didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Then it's the prospect of adventure which calls to you, I think: it has worked its way into your blood. I've seen it in those members in the Order who have travelled more widely as part of their service. Most who survive settle down eventually, but never while they are still young. Believe me, Cora, I do understand." He had been more active in his youth, and once he had longed to see lands he had only read about in the pages of books. He was too old for all of that now, but how could he blame Cora for wanting to do the same, when she had already tasted challenge and seen many wonders before?


	3. Chapter 3 Waterdeep

**Waterdeep**

As the boat slowly approached the Waterdeep docks, Cora looked down at the water, shimmering and swirling beneath her, painting a thousand broken jewels from the moon's reflection. Beyond, the moonlight cast a flattering glow upon on the fine patrician buildings in the city before her. To look out at the scene, no-one would have thought this was a city in trouble, but there had been talk about the raids for the entire trip here. Some passengers who'd previously made plans to stay were now thinking of attending to their business quickly then boarding another vessel, either for home or elsewhere. The crew had been issued orders not to venture too far from the docks, lest they were caught up in drow skirmishes. Most worrying of all, there were rumours that the guard would soon lock down the areas which were most likely to feature drow attacks: naturally the area around the Yawning Portal Inn, home of Durnan the Wanderer, was one of them.

Cora knew that these were dangerous times for the city, that she had come here on a near-whim: she should feel caution, even trepidation. But as she watched the boat edging closer to its docking station, she felt a small thrill in her gut, and she knew what its source was. There was a part of her that longed to be fighting again, yearned to test her blade against another: during those moments she felt truly alive. Oh, she might feel a stab of regret as she eased a blood-coated blade out of a still-warm body, and if she thought too hard about it, she would wonder if her opponent had a family, or people who loved them who would mourn. But those doubts were for later, for the rest times - not for those moments when she would skip across a room, ducking low or slicing hard, caught up in an almost unholy rush of adrenaline. It was far easier when her victims were not human: better still when they could not be described as even vaguely humanoid. She had not felt any regrets when she had slain a devil, only the rare satisfaction of knowing that she had felled a creature which was unequivocally evil.

She only hoped that she would feel such certainty when battling the drow. If she were to believe the fortune-teller, not all of them would be evil, but only time would tell as to whether she spoke the truth.

Feeling the need to be prepared, Cora dug into her heavy pack, looking through the items she had brought. Too many, in truth, but she had got out of practice with travelling light. A simple bedroll was wrapped tightly around some of the more deadly items: a beautifully-weighted sword, a mace suitable for fighting golems, a slim but magically-enchanted dagger. Those items she intended to keep, but she might need to be more ruthless with a few other of her treasures and sell them, especially while she travelled alone. It was bad enough that she'd brought her copy of Deekin's book with her - what was she going to do, re-read it when she wanted to be reminded what a real heroine was supposed to act like?

She reached further down into the pack and her fingertip touched something that felt like gristle: she recoiled, but gritted her teeth and brought the small object out anyway. Unpleasant though its texture was, it looked like part of an amulet or other magical item: its colour was reminiscent of polished bronze, and a two winking jewels lay at its centre. She studied it, puzzled: she thought she had sold it after returning from her previous travels. Why, she even remembered feeling disappointed that the merchant would only offer a few scant coins for a for a broken item, even one which appeared to be set with a ruby and a sapphire, but she was sure that she accepted the offer. So what was it doing in her bag once more? Cora had heard of cursed items which were impossible to remove once worn: perhaps it had originally been part of such an item, and it would certainly explain her instinctive revulsion of it. She picked up her pack with one hand, still holding the worthless artefact with the other, and walked over to the opposite side of the boat. Drawing back her arm, she threw it far out to sea.

Suddenly she felt something brush against her lower leg: looking down, she saw a cat, the spitting image of the one she had seen a few days ago at Madame Elista's house. Of course it could not be the same feline: on any such craft there was bound to be one or two cats to keep the rat population down. The creature slipped away, and as Cora's eyes followed it she noticed a small crowd was starting to form at portside. Time to disembark.

0-0-0

_A summoner's circle. A monstrous eight-legged creature lurking in the shadows. A dark woman, imperious and queenly, her every word a threat._

In a bed far from home, Cora's eyes blinked open, adjusting to the light of a guttering candle. Her skin felt sticky with sweat and she was about to throw off the heavy coverlet when she saw a flicker, a shadow move as stealthy as a cat across her vision.

_Not alone._

She wasn't prepared for this, yet even now the intruder was lunging towards her, the spike of a dagger outstretched. Cora grabbed her by the wrist even as her attacker made to stab her, allowing her claw-like fingernails to dig in cruelly to the smooth dark skin. Above her, she could see a flash of silvery white hair protruding from her assailant's hood.

_Drow? _

Her hands gripped both of the drow's arms, using her strength to prevent the dagger being pushed straight into her neck. She rolled sideways, propelling the more slightly-built stranger onto the floor, the coverlet sliding off with her. Scrabbling under the pillow desperately, Cora found the dagger she'd hidden, unsheathing it just in time as the drow leapt back onto the bed. As the enemy's dagger made its swift arc downward, she blocked with her left arm, pressing the point upwards with the right. Matching frenzied jab for slash, they rolled around like two children fighting, but this was no game. Finally, as Cora's blade found a gap in her armour, biting into soft flesh, the drow woman slipped from the bed once more, making a soft thud on the mat below. Cora got to her feet, her knife still gripped tightly, watching the still body lest it was a feint, a trick to take her unaware.

It was at that moment that Tamsil, the innkeeper's daughter, burst into the room, her eyes widening as she surveyed the bloody scene before her.

After a short and somewhat awkward conversation with Tamsil, Cora peered out of the doorway. The storeroom was just a few steps away across the empty hallway. Nonetheless, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her body, tying the ends in a secure knot before walking out of the room. She had felt a quite unreasonable surge of anger when Tamsil had caught her unaware, standing naked over the corpse. Oh, she was still jittery from the murderous awakening, but her discomfort had a further dimension, something which would have appeared trivial to anyone else. She'd long been shy about appearing anything other than fully clothed, and in more recent times her aversion had grown into a mild obsession.

Just as Cora turned the door handle, she heard an exasperated voice coming from inside the room.

"Oh, _bloody_ hell..."

Preparing herself to cast a spell if need be, she pushed open the door quickly with her toe, only to find a black-clad halfling standing before her, leaning against a crate, hands in pockets and an innocent look on his face.

"Who are you then?" he said brightly. "I've been guarding this room for Durnan. He said that no-one else was allowed to come in here, but then you come striding in, bright and breezy like you own the place. Funny, that."

The halfling couldn't have looked like a less convincing guard if he tried, but Cora had to admire his nerve. "I've been talking to Tamsil and..." she bit off her words, remembering that Tamsil had suggested she say nothing about the incident in case it alarmed people. "She said I could restock my equipment from the armoury. She also said I wouldn't find anyone else in here. Funny, that."

"Really? I dunno, Tammie's a nice enough girl, but just between you and me, she doesn't really know her arse from her elbow."

Cora nearly smiled - the girl hadn't been able to tell her very much - but she kept a straight face. "Well, she was going to tell Durnan about it, but if you're so worried about my credentials, I can clear it with him. You could escort me there, since you're his trusted guard," she said, calling his bluff.

"Oh, there's no need to make a big fuss," he said airily. "I'm sure my mate Durnan would have no worries about a girl like you, though I'm not going to complain if you want to show me your... ah, _credentials_. I mean, if you want to change into something right here, don't mind me." He gave her a slow wink.

"More likely the Hells are going to freeze over before that happens." Cora fixed him with an incredulous stare, which he initially returned, although he looked away when she held the gaze steadily.

"Blimey, girl, don't you ever blink?" he said with a slightly uneasy laugh. "You related to a beholder or something?"

"I wouldn't have a clue, but I doubt there's anything so exotic in the family tree. So, are we going to see Durnan now?"

"Nah, can't be bothered with all that. Name's Tomi, by the way. See you around." He sauntered away, leaving her in peace at last.

Cora shook her head as she sorted through the crates. Either all the other guests had got here first, or the local Thieves' Guild had paid them a visit - assuming she hadn't just met one of the members. What was left was poor in quality, but she had little choice other than to choose something. Her assailant had done something to make most of her belongings disappear before she awoke - perhaps even teleporting away the chest which she'd so carefully stowed most of her hard-earned equipment, as Tamsil had suggested. Now all she had left was a near-empty backpack containing an uneaten pomegranate, a battered book, her dagger and a couple of small items she'd filched from the drow's body.

She was relieved to find gloves, even if they appeared designed - and most likely enchanted - for a monk, and she donned them first. Looking harder,she discovered a passable if undistinguished shortbow. Her attacker's dagger, small though it was, clearly carried some form of enchantment and looked more deadly than any of the swords available. Her choices made, she dressed hurriedly, her back against the doorway. As she slipped a well-worn studded leather tunic over her head, the acrid stench of stale sweat assailed her nostrils. She badly wanted her mithril armour back.

Cora noticed that the back room leading from the upper floor was considerably more crowded than on her arrival. This was the second wave of volunteers to tackle Undermountain. The first wave, all local people, had not yet returned, and because the attacks from drow had intensified in the interim, it was feared that all had perished. Now Cora walked into the next room hoping to find Durnan, but on the way she became embroiled in a conversation with a small group of people who were here for the same reason as her. The group all knew each other from the past, and seemed willing enough to travel together once more. Their motivations for coming here varied, with two of them only attracted to Waterdeep by the prospect of a large reward, the other two here purely because of the desire to save lives.

One of them, an imposing half-orc, looked down at the new arrival as if he were passing judgement.

"So, why are _you_ here? Is it the reward you seek, the glory or the desire to help people?"

"I'm sure this lady would want to help the city, wouldn't you, dear?" said Linu sweetly.

"Yeah, right," said Tomi. "She was 'helping' out in the armoury earlier, weren't you, love? Helping yourself."

Cora grinned. She couldn't take him too seriously. "Speaking of that, shall I have a chat with Durnan about his guard now?"

"Oh, not that again. Don't you know when to stop flogging a dead horse? Mind you, with the way that armour hums, I think you're probably wearing one."

"Well, I'll be sure to craft you something similar, if I find any small dead goats in the vicinity," Cora shot back.

Sharwyn chuckled. "I think a rabbit would provide a big enough hide."

Cora realised that Daelen was still waiting for an answer from her. "I came here to help out," she said. "I can't say the payment would be exactly unwelcome, though."

"Careful with that fence-sitting," said Sharwyn. "You might end up with splinters."

"Well, it's true", she said. "Why does it always have to be a choice between one thing or the other? Who made the rule that being lawful means that people cannot accept payment for an day's work? People still have to eat and clothe themselves, even if they want to do some good. It's all very well if you're some knight from an old aristocratic family, but where do you think they found their fortune in the first place?" It was a sore point with her.

Cora felt a touch on her arm, from a hand which jerked back as quickly as if it had been pricked. Turning around, she saw a woman who could have been a vision of Tamsil as she would be in some thirty years time.

"Cora Webber, I take it?"

"That's the name," Cora said, proffering a gloved hand. The older woman hesitated for a brief moment, then shook hands with her.

From somewhere behind her, she heard an mellifluous voice saying "The heroine of Undrentide? I wrote a whole song cycle about her, but I made her into a statuesque blonde, carrying a shining greatsword." Evidently Sharwyn felt somewhat short-changed by the reality.

"I'm Mhaere, the proprietress of this inn," said the sombre-featured woman. "Perhaps now that you're ready, my husband can endeavour to explain the matter to all of you." Even as she spoke, Durnan was approaching them.

Durnan had the weathered look of someone who had known battle in the past, his voice and manner grimly matter-of-fact. He told Cora that there were a labyrinthine network of tunnels known as Undermountain, beneath the city, the creation of a mage called Halaster. Deeper still beneath the surface existed the territory of the dark elves, the Underdark. The city of Waterdeep had remained safe up to now, so much so that some locals had come to believe that stories about the subterranean areas were mythical rather than based upon reality. Such peace had only existed for so long because of Halaster's absolute rule over the creatures lurking within his territory. Now that drow raiders were coming up to the surface via Undermountain, there could be only two possibilities - either Halaster was dead, or he had decided to side with the drow for his own purposes. The only way to stop the raids would be to find out why this was happening, taking the battle to its source, and that was why the city was offering such a generous reward to those adventurers who were prepared to risk the terrors that lay below.

"Now, I don't intend to send anyone into Undermountain unprepared. That would be suicide. I'll offer what advice and equipment I can. In fact, I think it would be a good idea if-"

He never finished his sentence, interrupted by his daughter. "Wait, what's that noise, Father?"

Everything happened all at once. Even as Cora was turning around to see the source of the commotion, she heard a woman's voice crying "Your inn, your city, your race: the rivvin will fall before the Valsharess, fool!"

_Valsharess. _A chill ran down Cora's spine. She'd heard the same title in her dream, but there was no time to reflect on that now. She felt the backlash of magical power like a physical blow and saw the people nearest to the raiders collapsing. Raising her arms, she began to recite her own magical riposte. The drow were already following up with another spell: suddenly it was as if every light in the room had been extinguished, plunging the room into complete darkness. Fortunately Cora had just released the spell and the rays streamed across the room, lighting up the dark momentarily like a firework.

There were screams around her, curses. People were blinded, leaving them vulnerable to attacks from the drow and even from one another in spite of the fact that they significantly outnumbered the raiders. Cora heard another spell firing - she hadn't taken the spellcaster down, or there was at least one other. She aimed her next spell, a fireball, in roughly the same direction as the last. She gasped, losing concentration as a blade bit into her arm.

"Can't see me, can ye, surfacer!" laughed the bearded man at her side. _So they aren't all drow, these raiders._

"Wrong," she said, drawing her blade and slashing back. It was true: the darkness spell had only thrown her for a moment, and her eyes were beginning to adjust to the change quickly. If this darkness was more comparable to an impenetrable fog than a lightless room, she could still make out the shapes of bodies ahead of her, and that was enough for her.

At least the inn was packed with people who considered themselves to be battle-ready: some were less able than others, but they fought bravely.

There was still a damned spellcaster around, though... and although she could see the outlines of people, she didn't want to risk hitting the wrong person. Cora struggled to fight her way forward. There she was, the same woman who'd mentioned the Valsharess. Cora felt a flame of anger ignite within her, and a savage surge of pleasure as she managed to land a decisive hit, felling the priestess. Someone behind her yanked her by the arm, pulling hard, and as she twisted around she lost her footing, slipping on blood or spilt beer.

Her attacker loomed over her, and she jerked away from their blow, she thought she heard a familiar song, jarring and discordant.

_Deekin? _

Cora's lapse in concentration nearly cost her life, but she was lucky: her opponent was distracted in mid-swing by a sweeping slash from the innkeeper's wife Mhaere, which Cora was able to follow up with a stab to the groin.

The fight concluded just as suddenly as it began and the remaining darkness dissipated. Cora got to her feet, wiping blood from her eyes. Quickly she glanced around the room, : too many of their own side had fallen, considering that they had outnumbered the raiding party. A cleric in unusually close-fitting grey robes was already casting spells to revive those who were lying still on the ground: at least the inn had someone who could do that.

The innkeeper's wife was standing nearby, and Cora smiled at her. "Mhaere? Thanks, I think you just saved the cleric from having to resurrect me."

Mhaere did not smile back, anger etched into her features. She gestured towards the doorway with her sword. "They're coming from the well room. Just get in there and fight!"

The fight was over quickly enough, but the group Cora had spoken to earlier had all rushed off into the well hastily.

Durnan shook his head in disbelief. "They're committing suicide just rushing into there without any preparation. Whatever were they thinking?"

Cora had to agree with him. They seemed hopelessly disorganised, couldn't even agree on the smallest matter among themselves: they were just muddling through. But hadn't she been just like that herself, last time she'd had a real battle to fight? Somehow, although she'd had countless times when she came too close to death, she managed to come through it all, occasionally helped but mostly hindered by...

Cora felt a tug on the edge of her armour, and whirled around to see a familiar scaly face grinning up at her.

"So it _was_ you I heard out there!"

"Deekin is so happy to see Boss again!"

She knelt down to give Deekin a hug. "Aww, it's good to see you too. You shouldn't call me Boss, though. I thought I told you to stop doing that, the last time I saw you."

"Deekin forgets you said that, Boss. Deekin nots do it next time."

"You just did."

"What did Deekin do, Boss?"

"Uhh... never mind," she said. Some things never changed.

Behind her, Durnan scratched his head, a perplexed expression on his face.

0-0-0

As Durnan pulled the lever to close the well, he heard the echo of steps as his wife Mhaere walked towards him.

"The last of our visitors has left, I take it?"

He nodded. "Cora just went down, followed by the kobold who's been hanging around the inn. They appear to be firm friends, curiously enough."

His wife only gave a derisive snort in answer.

"I agree that he seemed an unlikely travelling companion, but she might have had more choice, if some of those cowards upstairs hadn't changed their minds as soon as they saw a real fight."

"That's the thing that really concerns me," said Mhaere. "Yesterday it seemed like we could count our volunteers in the tens, but so many of those have melted away. Just 6 adventurers went down the well today, and one of those is a _kobold_. As for Cora, it feels as if we're pinning most of our hopes on just one person, and that worries me. I would normally feel common ground with someone from a paladin's family, but there's something about her which didn't sit well with me."

"Why? She seemed civil, and she mucked in with the fighting readily enough."

"I'm fully aware of that. It was something almost intangible, a jarring sensation when I stood close to her. I hate to be so suspicious of one of our last hopes, but I hope that she's genuinely going down there to fight on our side."

The couple stiffened as they heard metallic tapping coming from the well cover. Durnan pulled the lever with his left hand but made sure his sword was gripped in the right, just in case.

A goblin stood before them, apparently unarmed. He looked up at Durnan, cringing with deference. "My name Grovel. I clean up dead drow, you not kill me on sight. You let me live and I works hard for you, yes? Grovel clean and scrub! Scrub away blood until basement clean, clean, clean!" The creature's voice was grating beyond belief.

"Not so fast, goblin," grunted Durnan. "Why have you suddenly turned up here and why should we trust you?"

"Cora said I could come here. That you would say it be OK for me to stay here, if I mentioned her name to you. Yes? Maybe? No?"

Durnan was at a loss for words. As he turned around to look at Mhaere, she gave the deepest, longest sigh he had ever heard her make.


	4. Chapter 4 Portents and Portals

**Chapter 4 - Portents and Portals**

The Soothsayer's House

To an onlooker, the scrying-crystal would have appeared nearly clear with just a couple of milky-white inclusions, and all that would have been reflected back would have been the wizened features of an elderly woman, distorted by the shiny concave surface.

Madame Elista saw something else entirely.

_You lost the trail? Lost her?_

The creature whose image was trapped within the crystal felt waves of irritation and anxiety washing over it, and its tail began to lash back and forth.

_How did this happen? Show me._

The eyes which surveyed her dimmed, blurring, until the soothsayer saw a large room, brightly-lit and crowded with people. Scanning the scene, she spotted the girl who had come to her recently for advice, but a pair of huge, grey-green hands suddenly came into the picture. She experienced the disorienting blur of being picked up and thrown bodily onto the cobblestones outside. A reinforced door slammed decisively, barring entrance to the building.

Madame Elista sighed as the vision faded. She wished she could have gone there herself, but her body was all too frail these days. Even with a haste spell, she still walked with a shuffling, painful gait. She was a mage, not a healer, and if her powers extended her lifespan somewhat, she was still vulnerable to mortal injuries. She had some personal experience of Undermountain, from so many years ago that it seemed like a whole lifetime, and she knew how treacherous the dungeon could be. She could ill afford the risk of dying just yet. No, it would be wise to keep her cards close to her chest, for now, and see how the situation unfolded from a distance. It was too soon to let her employer learn of her ideas, lest everything turned out badly. If it went well, however...

Whilst it had seemed as if fate had thrown a felicitous opportunity into her hands last week, nothing was going according to plan right now.

As she pondered the situation, the creature was still waiting, as patient as if it were stalking prey. Which it was, after a fashion.

_Show me the room again. Earlier, if possible. _

Once more, Madame Elista viewed the inn's interior, and this time she turned her attention to the small group of people talking with Cora. To be armed as they were in a public place, it was likely that they all planned to travel down into the subterranean realms. There was a half-orc with the proud carriage of a warrior, a mature elven cleric with a kind face, a beautiful woman carrying a lute, and a halfling male in the shadowy garb of a rogue. Their conversation seemed animated: perhaps Cora had agreed to travel in their company.

And then, the hands descended once again.

_Enough!_

Bright eyes blinked at her, impassive.

_You need to follow her. Go underground by whatever means you can, be it the Yawning Portal or elsewhere. I'm sure that Waterdeep must be riddled with secret ways into Undermountain, like holes in cheese. _

A pink tongue licked along blackened lips. Madame Elista realised that talk of food was only confusing the creature.

_Go underground. Find her trail. If you cannot find her, follow one of the others. Perhaps they too will lead to my goal._

0-0-0

Undermountain

There was no reliable way of tracking time in Undermountain. There was no night, no day, only rooms which were suffused with a dim yet consistent light. In the labyrinth of dead ends and unpredictable portals, it was equally hard to tell their precise location. The shifting nature of the place had meant that Durnan had been unable to provide anyone with a map, for it would have changed significantly since his last journey through here. Were they getting any closer to Halaster, or just stepping through endless portals only to go around in circles? It was difficult for Cora to tell.

At least she knew that she had not been in the current room before. Skeletons were enthroned at equal distances along the wall, each with their own name plate as if they were exhibits in a museum. Dusty exhibits, at that. She stifled the urge to sneeze. As she continued her journey along the hallway, each footstep echoing on the cold hard floor, she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Turning back, she saw that Deekin was otherwise occupied, kicking his legs idly from an empty throne whilst noting something down in his journal.

Looking up, Deekin spoke to her. "Why are the skeletons all lined up on big chairs, Boss?"

"I'm not quite sure, but I suspect they must have been important people once."

"You thinks they is the Lords of Waterdeep that no-one ever sees?"

"Doubt it. Then again, if these _were_ the Masked Lords, their current condition would explain why Waterdeep hasn't just raised an army to fight the drow, or why an innkeeper is organising everything. Mind you, I heard a rumour that Durnan is a Masked Lord himself..." She paused as she noticed a faint, shimmering vertical line forming along the wall to her right.

"Hey, Deeks, I've just found another one of those secret doorways." As always, the doorway was glowing brighter at this point, as if someone's belief in its existence rendered it more solid, more real. Just as she was about to open the door, Cora felt the unnerving sensation of being watched once more. Looking up, her eyes rested on the skeleton at the furthest end of the room. Clasped in his bony hands was a valuable-looking sword with an eerie glow, suggesting that a strong enchantment had been laid upon it. Even from a distance it appeared superior to Cora's current weapon, but her religious upbringing meant that guilt had a way of surfacing at the most inconvenient of times. She couldn't help wondering whether the sword had been placed during a religious ceremony. She wavered, caught between conscience and convenience, and it was then that she heard the voice.

_You're getting warmer. Just another step or two._

Startled, she turned around, but Deekin was nowhere near her, and he possessed no talent whatsoever for ventriloquism, as far as she knew. Besides, the voice sounded like that of a middle-aged human or elven male, with a rather affected air.

"Are you a talking skeleton?"

_Honestly! It's bad enough sitting here for what seems like millennia, without suffering from a case of mistaken identity! _

Cora realised that the voice was coming from inside her mind. She started to back away, when the voice spoke again.

_Look, do I really need to spell it out to you? I suppose I must. I was once known as Enserric, a powerful mage, but now I - or what is left of me - am trapped within the sword you see before you. _

"I see... is there anything I can do to help you?" Cora asked cautiously.

_To restore me? I have spent a long time considering the matter, but I need to do some further research. Still, you would be doing me an immense favour if you take me away from here. I'm frightfully bored. My captor is not the most scintillating conversationalist, as you might imagine. I suppose you'll want to know what's in this for you?_

"Well, I-"

_I'm sure you're a competent enough fighter, my dear. But with a highly intelligent sword like myself in your hand, you'll have an edge, if you'll pardon the pun._

She was beginning to notice that Enserric rather enjoyed the sound of his own voice, whether due to wizardly vanity or loneliness after resting here among the silent dead for so many years. "I'd like to help, but there's just one thing that worries me. If you talk while I'm fighting, I might get distracted."

_I suppose I'll have to curb my witticisms - such a waste! Perhaps just the occasional stirring battle cry will suffice? As for my uses, I can use some of my power even in this form to drain the life force... of your enemies, naturally. _He gave a little laugh. _I could offer you some advice on occasion._

"Very well. What do you advise right now?" Even as she spoke, she was prising Enserric's hilt from the skeleton's vice-like grip.

_I advise... RUN!_

As Enserric's voice screamed in Cora's mind, the skeleton lunged at her. Cora had never seen a murderous glare in empty eye sockets before, but there was always a first time for everything. As she turned to run away, she saw the same look reflected in every skeleton in the room.

"Deekin! To the secret door!" As she dodged past her opponent, she noticed that the doorway was already blocked by two angry skeletons. She was forced to make blow after jarring blow upon unyielding bone, before one of her opponents finally collapsed in a heap. Looking around, she saw Deekin was right behind her, gamely bearing some of the hits which were intended for her. Grabbing the injured kobold by the paw, she dived through the doorway into the murky blackness beyond.

0-0-0

Lith My'athar

The temple of Lolth was packed with followers, not of the absent Spider Goddess but of the Dark Maiden, Eilistraee. Only one among them did not share their beliefs, and he was clearly marked as something other than drow. In a sea of faces ranging from slate to jet, the man's skin glowed pale as calcite, and his pointed ears stemmed from a demonic rather than elven heritage. His ancestry was not the only reason why Valen lacked faith in the goddess, however. He could acknowledge the existence of the gods, but to to trust in any deity so completely? That, to him, was bordering on the foolhardy.

If he had a measure of faith in anything at all, it was in the Seer who stood before them all, in her immeasurable kindness and beyond that, her strength. Her gentle demeanour masked a core of steel: it had to, in order to persevere in the face of such overwhelming opposition. Valen had come here to listen to the Seer relate her latest vision, not from any belief in its infallibility, but simply to show his solidarity as the leader of her troops.

Crowded and warm as the room was, his thoughts could have easily drifted away into reverie, but with a soldier's discipline, he held his posture straight and his attention focused on the woman who stood before them all.

"...I have talked of a Saviour to come before, but my dream was the first occasion when I saw her countenance clearly. She is still fairly young, but that means she has the vitality and strength needed to prevail. I feel that she draws a little closer to us with every moonrise. There is one cloud across the moon, however. I saw the face of our enemy in my vision: even now, she seems to be aware of our Saviour's existence. Perhaps the Valsharess found out her identity from a mage's divination, or else from the archdevil she has chained. I do not yet know. Nonetheless, I must remind you all to be especially careful in your speech when walking around Lith My'athar, lest there are any eavesdroppers who are not sympathetic to our cause. I also believe it would be a good idea to assign a group of scouts to seek out the Saviour. We must find her, before one of the Valsharess's assassins does the same."

Valen frowned slightly, considering the implications. To his mind, it seemed unwise to split up their home guard in order to search for someone who was as yet a vision in a dream. Still, he supposed there was a small chance they might uncover some other information which could be relevant to their cause. It might be best to assign someone with a good eye and the experience to know when to cut a fruitless mission short. The former Red Sister Nathyrra came to mind: better to use her than a larger unit comprising several inexperienced recruits. He made a mental note to discuss the matter further with the Seer, and then turned his concentration back to her speech.

"Good followers of Eilistraee, I believe that if we can find this young female, she will readily agree to come to our aid. If she seeks Halaster, then she already shares one cause with us, for his imprisonment allows the Valsharess to attack the surface world where we would one day dance under the gentle light of the moon." Her usually soft voice was building to a crescendo, and she raised her ceremonial sword high into the air. "If our saviour finds a way to help Halaster, then I shall dare to have a further hope: that she will finally lead our forces to victory against the Valsharess!"

The room erupted into cheers as the followers, so starved of hope, grasped for the crumbs that the Seer had thrown them. Just one man stood unmoving, his expression a mask of confusion and shock.

_Lead? I am the appointed leader of these forces... am I not?_

0-0-0

Undermountain

Now that they had descended to a lower level of Undermountain, the ambushes were becoming more frequent, and the last fight had been particularly taxing. After checking that Deekin was still in the land of the living, Cora allowed herself to sink down to the ground and took a long, gulping draught from a bottle of healing potion. As she waited for the rejuvenating effects to spread through her system, she studied the room she was in more closely. Not for the first time, she wondered if Halaster had been a decorator in an earlier stage of life, for the walls and floor gleamed with intricately patterned yet treacherously slippery tiles. Here there was a nautical theme incorporating anchors and dolphins, whereas earlier there were pastoral images of foliage and wildflowers. Perhaps that was the real reason why Undermountain was said to change its very structure periodically. Maybe Halaster felt like a change of scenery every now and then, to break the monotony of the endless corridors. Cora could fully understand why.

At least there seemed to be few portals in this part of Halaster's domain. Each time she stepped through one, she had been hit with a wave of nausea. Unfortunately she seemed to be reacting more strongly to them as time went on, and it was never the wisest of ideas to be left clutching her stomach when she might be transported into the midst of a fight at any time. Still, that was not at the forefront of her worries right now. What she really needed was a pair of new boots with soles which were not worn smooth, she thought. Getting back on her feet, she stepped gingerly across the blood-spattered floor in order to access an ornate chest in the corner of the room. Just as she reached for the catch, she felt an unpleasant buzzing sensation on her fingertips and stopped short just in time.

Behind her, Deekin's quavering voice piped up. "Umm, Boss? Deekin finds a body that not drow or duergar. You thinks this is one of the people who came down here to fight?"

Cora walked to the place where the kobold was standing and looked down at the still, diminutive body. "That's one of them, all right. Tomi was his name, I think."

"Boss going to give him erection now?"

Her eyes snapped wide open, utterly horrified, then Cora realised the kobold's meaning. "Oh! The rod of resurrection... yes, I'll try to bring him back."

She searched through her pack, looking for the wand she'd been given by the cleric White Thesta just before leaving the inn. So far she'd used it twice, having encountered the half-orc Daelen and the bard Sharwyn earlier. Neither had been inclined to resume their travels with her. Sharwyn had no appetite left for the adventure, after being killed relatively quickly. Daelen, honest and strong as he seemed to be, exuded an air of mild disapproval which reminded her faintly of her father and much more strongly of the Guard Captain she'd recently been in the employ of. When Daelen had said that his skills would be best utilised to help guard the city, Cora made little effort to persuade him to stay. As for any other corpses she encountered, all had been in various grisly stages of decomposition, beyond any stage where they could be revived.

As she brought out the rod, she noticed that its bright sheen had dimmed slightly, not just because of her fingerprints smudging the metal, but due to the fact that its power faded with each use. When it was exhausted it would appear as dull as a stick of lead, but Cora had no idea how many people she would be able to revive before it failed her entirely. She took Tomi by the shoulders to turn him onto his back, his legs following suit as if she was moving a puppet, and pressed the tip of the rod just over his heart. All it took was the slightest nudge from her intention and the rod glowed anew. Cora felt the hot rush of life-force flowing through her, but she was only a vessel, a conduit for the rod which pulled the faintest spark from her body in order to discharge its own power into someone else.

If her life had taken a different turn, she might have been able to do this without any tools, giving a most precious gift that could be utilised again and again. But she was no cleric or paladin, just a fighter with a relatively minor sideline in magic. The still form shimmered faintly, and as the glowing mist absorbed into Tomi's skin, she saw him take a shuddering breath.

"Wha-?" His eyes twitched before focusing on the woman who was leaning over him, and the next thing he saw was the instrument she was holding against his chest. "Oh, don't tell me I was dead _again_!"

"You were gone for a while, but you'll be fine now."

She waited for him to get his bearings and rise to a sitting position. The back of his leather armour had a tear in it, still clotted with his own drying blood, but the miraculous effects of the rod of resurrection had already closed the wound beneath it.

Tomi rubbed his temples. "It's all coming back to me now. There I was, going in for the kill, shouting 'here comes halfling death,' because you wouldn't _believe_ how much that puts the wind up those drow!" He chuckled to himself, then his shoulders sagged as he added "Yeah, but it wasn't supposed to be my own death, was it? Someone must have sneaked up behind me and got me square between the shoulder-blades. That's just not fair," he said, his grin returning.

"No, I don't suppose you'd ever do anything like that, would you?"

"'Ere, less of the cheek, girl. So what's going on, then? Where's Linu? You know, the cleric in the blue dress? It was her being a bloody do-gooder that got us into this mess."

"I revived a couple of your other friends, but they've both gone back to Waterdeep. I haven't seen Linu yet."

"She can't be too far away..." Peering around the room, he saw the chest in the corner and let out a low whistle. "Nasty one, that."

"Even I can tell that it's trapped, and I've never had any training in disarming them."

"No?" Tomi said, still talking as he moved towards the trap. "In that case, you need an expert, and guess what? Tomi's your man. See that lock? If you'd dared to try and open it, you'd be lying on the floor right now. That's a double-layered trap, electric _then _acid. Not many people know that!" He took a while over the trap, tending to it almost lovingly until finally there was a faint fizzling sound, a metallic click and a self-satisfied, "Yep, all done."

"Please tell me that there are a good pair of sturdy, thick-soled boots in there."

"Oi, I opened this thing! Finder's keepers."

"You wouldn't be looking in there at all, if wasn't for me." She wouldn't normally like to remind someone of their debt, but Tomi was asking for it.

"Don't get your chainmail in a knot. As it happens, there are some boots in here, so it looks like you're in luck," he said, tossing her a pair of oxblood leather boots which appeared nearly new, before swiftly pocketing a bejewelled necklace while Cora wasn't looking.

She struggled to get the boots on, eventually concluding that she had no chance of breaking them in. "They're a little too snug."

"Yeah, your feet are on the big side, ain't they? Not being personal, love, but you're not quite as dainty as one of those dark elves."

She rolled her eyes, fully aware that he was getting her back for teasing him about his small stature earlier. "Yes, they're ever so delicate-looking when they're sticking a poison dagger in your back, I have to say. Anyway, I suppose I can sell these boots later. It's probably time I got moving, slippery soles or not." Cora assumed that Tomi would wish to return to the inn, just like the others had, and she didn't even make the effort to ask him to stay.

Unexpectedly, he moved ahead of her with a purposeful look on his face. "So where are we off to, then? Ya better let Tomi lead the way, if you want to get through all these traps!"

"Fine, but can you knock off the talking in third person? I get enough of that with Deeks here."

"Yes, Deekin says you talks funny. Why yous do that, halfling man?"

Suppressing the urge to giggle, Cora gestured ahead towards the next doorway. Insufferably cocky though Tomi was, she could see his skills would complement both her and Deekin. No longer would they suffer bruised shoulders from trying to break down locked doors. No longer would Enserric have cause to complain about being blunted 'without even a tiny sip of blood to compensate'. Besides that, she felt faintly gratified that anyone wanted to join their little band for a while, even if Tomi was only here for the treasure.


	5. Chapter 5 I Put A Spell On You

_Just wanted to say thanks to those who have reviewed so far - it is much appreciated! _

_Because I'm in a silly mood I've decided that this chapter has to be announced as if I'm driving a Tube train. (Hey, it's relevant - it's underground after all). _

"_This train is now stopping at Undermountain South. Make sure that you take all bags of holding and unfinished bardic epics with you before disembarking. Be aware that there have been reports of rogues and assassins operating in this area. Please do not allow any cloaks to obstruct the doors while they are closing. Next stop, Lith My'athar. Mind the gap!"_

* * *

**Chapter 5 - I Put A Spell On You**

"D'ya think his tile budget ran out suddenly?"

Cora immediately knew what Tomi referred to, for they had just entered an area which was unadorned with any of Halaster's decorative touches. Instead of straight walls and level floors, there was only rough, uneven rock all around them. The ambient light level had dimmed somewhat too.

"I wonder if we've finally arrived in the Underdark. Then again, it's not _that_ dark, is -" She broke off as one of the shadows ahead of her suddenly moved, materialising into a drow female clad in close-fitting, funereal black armour.

In a sudden, dramatic gesture, the drow dropped her daggers onto the floor. She held her empty palms in front of her, fingers spread wide. "Hold your weapons, I mean you no harm."

After the many battles with drow in the preceding rooms, Cora did not feel ready to disarm herself so quickly in return. Nor did she step closer, although she lowered Enserric slightly.

"How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"

"Not all of the drow are out for your blood, Cora."

Cora blinked in surprise. Why would this drow stranger know her name? Quickly, she collected her thoughts, adopting a neutral expression. "Cora? Who's she? I don't know anyone of that name." She was not a well-practised liar, and judging by the hint of a smile on the other woman's face, she guessed that she'd been utterly unconvincing.

"I'm afraid your reputation precedes you... Cora. You are known among my people because my leader has taken a special interest in you."

"Deekin thinks that when people takes any interest in Boss, they never wants to be her friend. Usually they wants to kill her instead."

"Er, thanks Deekin... I think." Then Cora thought of the vivid nightmare she'd had in Waterdeep. The woman called the Valsharess appeared to have some interest in her, albeit of a murderous kind. Maybe Deekin was right after all. It would be foolish to let her guard down too quickly.

She spoke to the black-clad female standing in front of her. "When you talk about your people, do you simply mean the drow?"

"Not the kind of drow you are no doubt thinking of, those who are raiding the surface. We are different... we are rebels."

Tomi's eyebrows raised almost high enough to reach his overhanging quiff. "Different? Yeah, right. Instead of stabbing us in the front, you'll pretend to be friends then stab us in the back!"

There was a small shake of the drow's head. "No." she said firmly. "We wish to help you. We want to help you free Halaster."

But Cora wasn't going to relent quite so easily. This drow seemed to know far too much about who they were, what they were doing here. She could have been spying on them from a distance. "Why do you assume that I want to free Halaster at all?"

The other woman's pale brows furrowed. "If that is not your goal, then I cannot understand why you have risked your neck by travelling deep into Undermountain. My leader told me that you would seek out Halaster, after she dreamed of you."

_Dream?_

Cora felt a cold shiver run down her spine, in spite of the other woman's polite, measured tone. Unconsciously, she gripped the hilt of Enserric more tightly, causing him to grumble.

_I expected to be handled with a gentle touch by a female! So much for that!_

Ignoring Enserric, she spoke to the drow female, keeping her tone of voice deceptively calm. "I seem to be at a disadvantage here. I don't know your leader's name yet. Nor yours, for that matter."

"My name is Nathyrra. As for my leader, we call her the Seer."

"Not the Valsharess?"

It was Nathyrra's turn to look surprised. "So you already know of her. No, the Seer and our people stand against the Valsharess, although it is an increasingly lonely and dangerous position to take. It is the Valsharess's forces who are holding Halaster prisoner so that they can attack the surface. Perhaps you can now understand why I would want to assist you."

Cora's stance relaxed slightly, although she did not completely trust Nathyrra yet. "What kind of assistance would you offer? Does this mean that you want to join us?"

"You've got to be kidding," said Tomi quietly behind her. Cora wasn't necessarily enthused by the idea either, but she wanted to see how Nathyrra would react.

Nathyrra considered her question. "No. I don't believe you trust me yet, and it doesn't offend me in the least, for there is much treachery among the drow in general. In truth, I am not quite sure of you either. Many surfacers would wish to kill any drow they encountered on sight. But I have been asked to help you, and what I can offer you is some information. What you do with it is up to you."

"All right, I'll listen."

Nathyrra nodded. "Halaster is located far to the north of here, but he is caught in a trap and heavily guarded. You will also have to pass through some areas which are heavily populated with enemy drow in order to reach him. In the large room ahead of you, the drow have enslaved a group of Formian creatures. I believe they are using them to create new tunnels in order to travel more swiftly between the Underdark and surface. The Queen of the Formians is held in a mechanical force field, and if you can find some way to free her, perhaps the rest of them will be grateful enough to aid you."

"Formians? What are they, when they're at home?" said Tomi.

Deekin answered in Cora's stead. "They is huge, scary looking ant-creatures, but nots as bad as they looks if you get on their right side. Boss met some Formians in the past. They helped us, after their Queen talked to Boss inside her head."

"What? Like your sword, you mean?" Tomi stared at Cora. "How many voices do you normally have chattering away in that head of yours?"

"Look, I'll have you know that I'm perfectly sane!" she said, inadvertently waving Enserric at the halfling as she emphasised her point.

"Yeah, yeah, I believe you," he said, dodging the sword. "But if any of those voices start telling you to go killing any halflings in their sleep, just give Tomi some fair warning, eh?"

It was then that Cora realised that Nathyrra had slipped away, merging back into the shadows as unexpectedly as she had arrived. She had even picked up her dropped weapons without any of them noticing. None of them could be entirely sure whether Nathyrra's offer of information wasn't just a way to lull them into a false sense of security but there was no point in standing around wondering about it: they still needed to make progress.

Tomi scouted ahead for them, and when he returned, he reported that there were some "bleedin' enormous ants in there," the largest of which was trapped within a force field.

"I even managed to backstab a couple of those dark elves while I was on the way back. I'm telling you, I'm the best!" he said, puffing his chest out a little.

"You did well, I've got to admit. We'd better plan a strategy about getting the queen free, though. Think of it as good practise for when we do the same for Halaster." Cora felt like a proper leader when she used phrases like 'plan a strategy'. No matter that she rarely planned anything, habitually acting on impulse and trusting to luck. Now that she was leading a little group again, she thought it would be best if it sounded as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I could do a bit more of the old scout-and-stab trick, but there's a fair amount of those drow scattered around the room. It'll take a long time to take 'em all out and sooner or later, the bodies are going to attract notice."

"It sounds rather slow. If we get Deekin to cast some protective spells and then sing his song, we might be able to take on a corner at a time, as long as we don't attract the notice of the whole room."

"You wants Deekin to sing, Boss? Deekin happy to do so!" In his enthusiasm, his voice came out sounding just a little too loud. Loud enough for any nearby scout to overhear.

Suddenly they heard an exchange of words in a harsh-sounding language.

"L'Valsharess zhahus ditronw - udossta_ abbil _uriu raq'tus!"

Too late to backtrack, they had to fight. Unfortunately the scouts were able to call to their nearby allies, and soon they were nearly surrounded.

Cora was taking too many hits at once, knew she was losing blood. Nothing mortal as yet, but there were too many drow to overcome between the three of them.

"We've gotta make it over to the Queen!" Tomi yelled frantically, and she chased after him.

"Oi! There she is!" Tomi gestured ahead with his dagger.

There was a small rocky hill ahead of Cora, the way blocked by a mage. Normally he would have been the first of her concerns, but she parried his feeble attack and dashed past, hoping Tomi could stop his spellcasting. As she reached the summit she saw someone who could only be the Formian Queen. Rays of light washed over her shiny carapace, the forcefield holding her completely immobile.

There was no message in Cora's mind this time: the Queen was as silent as if she were dead. She saw a lever not far from the Queen, and had to take a chance. Even as she reached for the lever, the searing heat from a nearby spell burned her back. She winced with pain, smelling the acrid fumes of singed hair, but she tugged on the heavy contraption as hard as she could. At last the the Queen was free.

A cool, echoing voice sounded in Cora's mind. _Thank you, humanoid creature. You are a friend of the colony, and when the time is right, we shall repay you. _Cora felt a wash of healing light flowing over her just before the Queen burrowed into the ground.

In the distance, Cora could see a swarm of the ant-like creatures rushing from their pen, revitalised by their Queen's commands. Now fighting as a unit, they cut a swathe through all drow in their path. Back at the base of the hill, there were still a few of their pursuers left, and the band of three were forced to battle on until each drow was killed.

0-0-0-0-0

It seemed an age since the last sounds of battle had died down, but Nathyrra was used to waiting. Patience, or a certain doggedness, made the long delay in the shadows more bearable. Twice now she had encountered the the fighter, the kobold and the rogue, and on both occasions she had been able to offer them advice which would likely conserve their lives. Nonetheless, she was beginning to wonder if she should have assisted them with more substantial help than words. Nathyrra had not known any surfacers before. The only non-drow she had ever met was their General, and he hailed from the City of Doors, not the surface of Toril. She was unfamiliar with surfacer ways, but she found it hard to imagine anyone freely offering help to strangers without getting something substantial in return. Thinking about it some more, Nathyrra decided that she would have much more bargaining power on behalf of the Seer's cause if she offered her sword arm to Cora after all.

Whatever else came next, one thing was for sure: the Seer's description of the Saviour fitted Cora as perfectly as a suit of bespoke armour. Nathyrra smiled to herself at the thought. Just before she had left on this mission, General Shadowbreath had pulled her aside, giving her instructions she did not need. "If everything turns out as I expect, and this vision of the Seer fails to materialise, you should gather any intelligence you can before making a speedy return to camp." He was stating the obvious as far as she was concerned, having been on many reconnaissance missions before. She did not understand how he could simultaneously display such complete loyalty to the Seer whilst having no faith in her visions. But then, the dour tiefling habitually kept his innermost thoughts to himself: only the Seer had any true understanding of his motivations.

She heard the sound of footsteps and quickly positioned herself behind a large outcropping of rock. Whilst she could have shown herself immediately, it was a golden opportunity for Nathyrra to gain the measure of the group. First to speak was the kobold, in his scratchily high-pitched voice.

"Hey! You gots my book. Give it back!"

"Just taking a quick look," the halfling rogue said. "What's with all the doodles, though?"

"Doodles?" asked Cora. "What are they about?"

"You NOTS supposed to see them, Boss! Drawings just for Deekin's own enter - enty - fun!"

"Now I know I've got to see these," muttered Cora.

"They're a bit of an eye-opener," said Tomi. "I hope you don't shock easily."

"_What?"_

"All right - show Boss the pictures," said the kobold unexpectedly. "Deekin not thinks it very important, after all."

As Tomi brought out the loosely-bound collection of papers to show Cora, the kobold snatched it up from Tomi's hands, flying over to the top of the rock which Nathyrra was hiding behind.

"Ha! Deekin gots book back!" he cackled, waving his book around, doing a celebratory dance from his superior vantage point.

Cora stared at him, open-mouthed. "Forget about that, Deeks! Don't you realise what you just did? You flew!"

Deekin stopped, looking down at his feet before resuming his prancing. "Hooray! The brave kobold defended his great epic from the smelly halfling..."

"For the last time, ya scuttling lizard, I do NOT bloody smell!"

"...and learned how to use his dragon wings for the very first..." As Deekin twirled around, he spotted the dark figure crouched behind the rock. "Why yous hiding in corner, drow lady? You needs to pee?"

Her cover well and truly blown, Nathyrra mustered all of her dignity and emerged from the shadow of the rock. "I have been waiting for you all to arrive. Much as I hate to spoil your revels, it would be a wise idea to keep fairly quiet in here," she said coolly.

"I didn't say very much," said Cora hastily, before mentally cursing herself for sounding like a guilty schoolchild.

"Halaster lies two rooms ahead of us, but he is being held fast in some kind of magical trap. An elite group of drow are surrounding him, so we will have to deal with them first."

"We?" said Cora. "Does this mean that you are planning to fight alongside us?"

"Yes, I think it would be to our mutual benefit if we fought side by side here, if you agree."

Cora did not answer her straight away, as she felt the need to weigh up the situation from all angles. She'd been eager to find allies who would fight alongside her, but she had not expected a drow to offer help. Nathyrra's advice so far had proven useful, perhaps even lifesaving. Yet Cora could not rule out the possibility that the woman was playing an exceptionally complicated game, not minding whether she sacrificed some of her own in order to reach her objective. From the little that she'd heard about ways of the drow, that was entirely possible. But hadn't Madame Elista once said that there were always exceptions to every rule, including among the drow? Could Nathyrra be one of those rare exceptions? Giving up on her ruminations, Cora made a snap decision.

"All right, I agree that it would be a good idea to join forces - but there is more to this than meets the eye, isn't there? It's not just about Halaster. Has this anything to do with your band of rebels?"

"You're right," nodded Nathyrra. "Freeing Halaster will be helpful, but there is so much more that needs to be done, before we curtail the threat from the Valsharess. I'd like to tell you some more about our cause, Cora, but I think it would be best to wait until we've dealt with the current problem, don't you? We'll have time to talk, then."

"You're right. Let's get going."

Casting all thoughts of high jinks aside, the group of four crept forward.

0-0-0-0-0

The battle was over at last and Halaster was free, but that did not mean that everything was going according to plan. The old mage was not as grateful as they were expecting him to be. A double of the mage, identical in every way, suddenly emerged from the shadows, claiming that the group's intervention had ruined his plan to draw the Valsharess closer. Worse still, the two Halasters were unable to agree which one of them was the genuine article. Ignoring the group who stood before them, they argued among themselves for a few moments.

_Doesn't matter which one is real, they're both nutters, _Tomi thought. _Stark raving nuts._

They suddenly came to an accord, but their joint decision had nothing to do with the identity of the real Halaster. Instead, they decided to set a geas on Cora, forcing her to go into the Underdark in order to defeat the Valsharess.

A scant few words were uttered, mumbled in unison by both mages, and that was enough. It all happened too quickly for anyone to move or react. A dark, buzzing swarm of flying insects surrounded Cora. As she threw up her hands in a fruitless attempt to bat them away, the insects dived in unison. A thousand tiny stings penetrated through her armour before they disappeared from sight.

Cora shivered violently, and a faint, involuntary moan emerged from her lips. She stared down at her arms, a shocked look on her face.

"Boss? What's wrong, Boss? Mage spell hurt you?"

"It's this... this _weight. _All over. It's lessening rapidly, but I know it's still there." She gave the nearest of the twin Halasters an accusing stare. "You bastard, I _helped _you! All of this effort was so I could free you, and you put a spell on me?"

The mage laughed unkindly, as did his double. "You have no choice but to do as I say. Kill the Valsharess, the geas goes away."

"You can't force me to do anything!"

Nathyrra shook her head. "Don't be so sure, Cora. If you don't obey him, you'll die. You'll have to destroy the Valsharess."

The mages nodded smugly. "Afterward I promise that you'll truly be free... but don't do something foolish, like come after me."

"Hey! Deekin not likes it when people talks to Boss like that!"

The two Halasters surveyed Deekin through rheumy eyes, and one of them turned back to Cora, saying, "Your kobold is brave, though not too bright. Just the kind of ally you need in this fight. I'll send him with you when you go down below. He might prove useful - you never know."

If Tomi needed any further proof that Halaster was mad, there it was. He thought Deekin was _useful?_ Still, Cora seemed to depend on the kobold, in an odd way. Funny how you could end up travelling with the most unlikely sorts sometimes, like that bleeding-heart cleric Linu and him. It all worked out well enough in the end, just as long as there was someone who could fight, someone who could heal, and someone with an eye for an opportunity. Which was exactly where he came in. Tomi stuck his hands into his pockets and stepped in front of the mage who had just been speaking.

"If you're sending the kobold down there, ya better send me too, wizard! The Underdark is full of shadows and traps and treasure. It's like I was born for that place!"

Tomi glanced to his left side and noticed Cora smiling down at him. She didn't seem the soft type but she was looking a bit mushy round the edges right now, silly cow, after he'd made it quite clear that he was in it for the gold. Still his rogue skills had to come in handy for her: a bit of mutual self-interest never did any harm.

Halaster Blackcloak was having none of it, though. Wagging an arthritic, ring-shrouded finger at Tomi, he said "Rogue, you don't tell _me_ what to do! Understand I'm in charge here, not you! I'd rather send you back up to the top. Let Waterdeep know the invasion will stop. I'm cleaning house, the drow are no more. Undermountain will be as it was before."

Nathyrra turned to the mage, making her own entreaty to be sent down to the Underdark with Cora. In spite of his hatred of the drow, Halaster appeared to be taking some notice of her. It helped that she was opposed to the Valsharess, and she was being liberal in her use of 'please' and 'thank you'. Nor could it have done any harm that she showed a fair amount of cleavage in that tight black leather armour of hers. Even loony old mages were not entirely immune to feminine wiles, it seemed. Tomi had a feeling that none of their group would be sticking around here for much longer: no doubt Halaster would send them all packing to wherever he saw fit. Taking a quick glance to the left and right, he noted that Cora was listening intently to the conversation and Deekin was frantically scrawling some notes down.

_I'm gonna regret this, _Tomi thought. Without further ado, the halfling rogue reached into a concealed pouch just before dipping his small, nimble and entirely undetected fingers into the trouser pocket of the woman who'd saved his life.


	6. Chapter 6 Luck be a Lady

**Chapter 6 - Luck Be A Lady**

The brief moment of warning was not quite enough to prepare Cora for the shock of teleportation, and the sensation was far worse than the portals within Undermountain. Dizzy and disoriented, she stumbled, her palms breaking her fall with a painful impact. Before she could recover, someone slammed hard into her from behind, locking an arm in a stranglehold around her throat. As she gasped for breath, struggling to break free, she saw a group of heavily-armed drow males running towards her.

A female voice rang out like the crack of a whip. "Stop! Do you not recognise one of your own?"

The drow fighters halted, and Nathyrra broke the sudden silence. "She's with me."

The arm released its punishing grip on Cora. As she struggled to her feet, rubbing her throat, she saw that her assailant was a man of quite startling appearance. Taller and paler than any drow, his skin was the colour of ash: a pair of ridged horns reared out from bright russet hair. There was no sign of any headdress attached to the horns: they looked to be part of him. He said nothing, merely shooting her a hostile glance from icy blue eyes before stalking away.

In front of Cora, the sea of guards fell back, revealing a drow female who was clothed in a softly shimmering white dress. _Skin as dark as charcoal, hair as white as milk. Eyes silver-grey like the moonlight. _

Meanwhile, Nathyrra bowed deeply to the older woman. "Mother Seer, it's good to see you again."

"And you." said the other woman warmly. "But I see you have returned with another, someone very important indeed." Beckoning to Cora, she said "You are Cora, are you not? I am the Seer. Please... come closer."

Cora walked forward a couple of steps, extending her hand so the other woman could shake it. Instead the Seer raised it to her lips, kissing the back of Cora's hand just as a gentleman in Faerun might do. The gesture surprised Cora, and it clearly had a similar effect on some of her guards nearby, who gaped in astonishment.

The Seer smiled graciously. "You should know that I have awaited your arrival with great anticipation. You are most welcome here."

Cora had too many questions to stand on ceremony. "You seem to know my name, and Nathyrra said that it came to you in a dream. Is that true?"

"I am a priestess of Eilistraee, and I have prophetic visions, sent to me by my Goddess. I have dreamed of you more than once, but on the last occasion, I saw you quite clearly, caught within a summoner's circle in the domain of my enemy, the Valsharess. If I am correct, you experienced the same dream."

Cora was silent for a while, remembering. She had not talked of the nightmare to anyone since leaving the Yawning Portal. Finally, she nodded. "At the time... it felt as if I was really there," she admitted.

"I have wanted to speak with you ever since then. That was why I sent Nathyrra to find you, but I was not expecting you to arrive here quite so quickly." She frowned slightly. "I get the impression that your sudden transportation here was something of a surprise to you."

"I'd call it more of a shock," said Cora ruefully.

"Unfortunately, Mother Seer, Cora is not here by her own free will." Nathyrra stepped in to explain to the Seer all about Halaster's geas. As the two drow discussed what had happened prior to the sudden teleportation, Cora's attention was diverted by an uncomfortable sensation, as if someone was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck were beginning to prickle, so strong was the feeling. She wondered if there was a sentient sword somewhere else in the room, but the mere notion caused Enserric to protest.

_Certainly not! _ _Look out for the outsider with those rather dangerous looking horns._

Enserric was right: the man who had attacked her earlier was looking her up and down, as if sizing her up. Whoever he was, he appeared to be far from pleased by her arrival here. Cora stared straight back, her expression coolly indifferent, not wishing to show that he had intimidated her. She had used such a ploy before, whether in the city guard or with Tomi. Usually, she found it quite effective. This time, it was entirely failing to work, for the man did not avert his gaze at all.

Cora felt a light touch on her arm. "It is important that you know something of the Valsharess if you are to help us fight her," said the Seer gently.

"Ah... yes, of course," said Cora, feeling faintly embarrassed that she'd been so easily distracted. "I need to find out more about her, but I'd feel much happier if I was doing this of my own volition. As you're a priestess, could you lift Halaster's geas from me?"

The Seer laid her hand on Cora's arm once more, her face stilling to a mask of deep concentration. Finally she shook her head. "I'm sorry. There are only two ways that this geas can be removed. One is through the death of the Valsharess, as you know. The other is by Halaster's own intent... but I cannot imagine that he could ever be persuaded to lift it. If you returned to Undermountain to seek him out, the malign power of the geas would almost certainly be activated."

Cora had been in this situation before, in the city of Undrentide. She had worn a slave's collar temporarily there, restricting her movements to certain rooms only. The consequence of disobedience had been an agonising pain which ripped through her entire body, rendering her incapable of moving forward. Even though she had the vast subterranean world of the Underdark to explore, and she was in no pain, she hated the idea that she was compelled to do anything.

_I was bored at home, wanted to take part in some grand adventure! What a short memory I have. _

The Seer looked at her with compassion in her eyes. "I know you must feel like a fly caught in one of the many webs which decorate this temple. I wish our first meeting had not been overshadowed by Halaster's violation of your freedom, but I cannot change anything. All I can do for the moment is to give you some more information about the Valsharess's plans."

Cora nodded, resigned to the situation for the moment. "Tell me what I need to know."

Between themselves, the Seer and Nathyrra told her more about their enemy. The Valsharess had once been the Matron of a minor House, Kilath: their rise to power and dominance over other Houses had been shockingly swift. It seemed that the Valsharess had somehow managed to entrap an arch-devil, binding him into helping her. Cora frowned, feeling more out of her depth than she had done for a long time. She was supposed to help these people, even though she knew nothing of drow politics. Likewise, she had fought a devil only once in her life: she could hardly claim expertise on infernal matters. Her attention was drawn back to the horned man standing by the wall. The devil she'd fought had horns, too, yet this man's face was clearly human.

Cora looked back at the Seer, focusing on the present. "So, what do you propose we do now?" She assumed the Seer had a plan: something clearly defined which she could follow. After all, if this woman was genuinely a Seer, then surely she could plot the way ahead with some ease, even if she needed outside help?

Instead, the Seer looked hesitant. "Yes, that is a good question. What are we to do?"

Cora's heart sank. It was not the answer she was hoping for. "So, there's no actual plan - at all?" Impulsive though her nature was, she was painfully aware of the fact that she knew very little about the Underdark.

"There is only one thing we can do," said the Seer. "I must put my faith in the goddess... and that means putting our lives in your hands, Saviour. Only you can save us."

Cora had no time to react to the Seer's apparently unlimited faith in her, for the horned male briskly stepped forward.

"Are you sure, Seer? Can you be truly certain that she is this Saviour of yours? She could be the death of us all!"

Cora felt a surge of irritation, but said nothing. Suddenly she noticed that the warrior had a long, thin tail which flicked from side to side behind him, reflecting the agitation in his voice. _What strange land did you spring from?_

The Seer held up a hand to him. "Our lives are irrelevant, good Valen. The Valsharess must be stopped at all costs, and Cora is the key to stopping her."

"You know I don't believe in your ways, Seer. I won't throw my life away by blindly following anyone, and I don't believe anyone here should, either." He looked around the room, plainly hoping for agreement, but everyone else avoided his eyes. Where the others in the room obviously deferred to the Seer, it seemed that he alone felt free to argue openly with her. Although Cora did not know the Seer, she felt an oddly protective surge of feeling towards her. How dare this man throw his weight around with a woman, so slight in stature compared to him? The priestess appeared entirely unruffled, however. She seemed to be used to such exchanges.

"You have saved us more times than I can count, Valen. But the army of the Valsharess will soon march against us, and even your great skill in battle will not be enough to save us."

Deekin sidled up to Cora, tugging at her arm. She stooped down to listen to him. "Boss, Deekin thinks this whole situation not sounds so good if a whole army is coming here. You thinks we should just slip away while they is arguing and try to find the way out of Underdark?"

"I couldn't do that even if I chose to, Deeks. Not with this geas hanging over me."

"Deekin forgets about that. So if Boss leaves, Boss dies, but if Boss stays, we probably still doomed."

"Something like that. Well, I'd rather think that we're not doomed - hey, we made it out of a tight spot last time around, didn't we?" She spoke with more conviction than she felt inside, but the answer seemed to satisfy Deekin.

"Boss and her brave kobold companion together will find a way to defeat the Val - Valshy - evil drow lady. By the way, Boss, how you spell geas?"

"G, A, E, S. No, wait, that's wrong. I think it's G, E, A, S."

Cora looked up again, and saw that the warrior named Valen was regarding the exchange with some curiosity_. Yes, I'm giving a spelling lesson to a kobold. Have you got a problem with that, too? _At least he had stopped his bickering for the moment. Ignoring him, she turned back to the Seer and Nathyrra.

"I can think of something which may help us," said Nathyrra. "The Valsharess has been seeking out some allies within relatively close travelling distance of Lith My'athar. If we could either turn them to our side or weaken them individually, it would be to our advantage. I can tell you where to find them."

"Thanks, Nathyrra. That sounds like an excellent plan," Cora said, pleased that someone had at last given her even the vaguest hint as to how to proceed.

Nearby, Cora heard Valen clear his throat, and she braced herself for the inevitable objection. To her surprise, it did not come.

"I may be able to offer some advice too... Cora. I know much about the legends of the Underdark. I have heard rumours of powerful artefacts and allies we might be able to acquire."

"Deekin knows lots of legends too!"

The corner of the warrior's mouth twitched as he looked down at the kobold. "Really. A kobold who is an expert on the Underdark?"

"Deekin is an accomplished bard. You'd be surprised how much he knows," said Cora quietly but firmly, meeting his cold eyes.

0-0-0

Cora left the temple in the company of Deekin alone. The Seer had told her that either Valen or Nathyrra could show her around Lith My'athar, but she decided that she would feel more at ease without the scrutiny of strangers while she was still within the relatively safe confines of the city.

It soon became evident that the kobold felt much the same way. "Deekin not likes the man with goat-horns much."

Sighing, she agreed. "I'm not too keen on him either."

"Deekin used to getting funny looks from people all the time, but why would anyone dislike a great heroine such as you, Boss?"

The way he spoke, Cora thought, no-one would have ever realised that Deekin actually accompanied her on her last mission. His bolts hadn't caused too many enemy deaths, but the protective effect of his bardic song had undoubtedly saved her skin more than once.

"It's just one of those situations when you dislike someone on sight, I suppose. It happens," she shrugged. Curiously, the last time she'd sensed such hostility was from Durnan's wife Mhaere, even though Mhaere had made an effort to grit her teeth and be polite. She'd come to notice that kind of reaction from paladins occasionally, not necessarily hostility but at least an instinctive wariness. It seemed inexplicable, considering her upbringing.

For a second she wondered whether Valen might be a paladin too, then almost laughed out loud at her own fanciful notion. She could have spotted one from fifty paces, a mixture of steely resolve and a brightness which was something more than the reflection of well-polished platemail. Valen might have the armour and the uncompromising manner, but the only person with an aura of sanctity in this dark place was the serene Seer. No doubt Valen was a tough, capable warrior, but she could fight well too. He had taken her unawares in the Temple, but that was just a matter of luck and timing.

She turned to Deekin. "The Seer said that she might be able to spare an escort. Do you think I should ask Nathyrra?" Deekin would usually agree to anything she planned in an almost slavish manner, but she liked to consult him. It was Deekin's ambition to set an example to his fellow kobolds, showing them that there were better ways to live, but it was clear that he found it much easier to be a follower than a leader at present. She hoped that one day he might surprise her by making a decision all by himself.

Not this time, however. "Deekin follows Boss no matter who else comes along, whether it be smelly halfling, sneaky drow lady or nasty horned man."

Cora resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "Very decisive, Deeks," she said sarcastically. "I don't think the nasty horned man would come along even if I asked, but that's not going to happen."

Deekin did not answer her immediately: he appeared deep in thought, which could only mean one of two things. Either he was composing an alternative to the Doom Song - something she dearly hoped would happen soon - or he was about to throw her some kind of intrusive question.

They had just finished their transactions with the merchant when Deekin came out with it.

"Umm, Boss?"

"Yes, Deekin?"

"If you not likes the goatman, why were you staring at him so much earlier?"

"Staring? I wasn't staring. I never, ever stare at anyone. For a start, it would be an incredibly rude thing to do, no matter how outlandish someone's appearance was. Almost as rude as telling a complete stranger you don't trust them, don't you think? Or telling the Seer that you don't believe in her prophecies. And as for his -" Cora suddenly realised she was ranting and abruptly closed her mouth.

"You were looking at him the whole time, Boss. Even while you were talking to the Seer and the other drow lady, you kept glancing over at him."

She felt her cheeks colouring slightly. From past experience of reading his previous tome, she knew that it was routine for Deekin to exaggerate wildly until her every mundane action was transformed into something heroic or romantic. If she didn't take care to correct any of his flights of fancy, Deekin would most likely have the readers believing she was irresistibly attracted to a tense, twitchy, hostile... goatman. She wondered what manner of creature had birthed Valen. Were there others who resembled him, or was he fully unique?

"What's wrong, Boss?"

She realised she had come to a halt. "Nothing Deekin. What was I saying? Oh yes, I was going to tell you why I was looking at Valen. I was curious about his tail."

"Deekin gots tail, but Boss never ever stares at it," he said, sounding rather insecure.

"I _expect_ a kobold to have a tail. Valen's a man, so it looks out of place. Besides, he was staring at me first. I thought he was being impolite, so I decided to show him how it feels. You know, like two cats having a staring contest?"

Deekin was reaching for his journal. "You means when the cats are about to pounce on one another? Deekin never sure whether they do that before they have fight, or before they mates with one another." He started nibbling on the end of his quill, a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Look, I don't know either! I'm hardly knowledgeable about cats!" she cried, suddenly flustered.

"Then why yous mention them in the first place, Boss?"

Lost for an answer, she went to look for the smith.

0-0-0

The drow rebels assigned a room for Cora, so that she could take a rest before going out into the Underdark. The curved, ornately decorated bed looked comfortable, but she stayed seated by the dressing-table for the time being. She didn't think she could sleep just yet: there was too much on her mind.

Fame she had known before for a short while, and it had touched her in unexpected ways, not all of them pleasant. Sometimes she would walk into an inn and hear her name recited by a bard. Often the same bard, on discovering her name, would wonder how this young woman, fairly average in height and build, could possibly be the legendary heroine who had prevailed over so many trials in a flying city. Sometimes, in moments of self-doubt, she had trouble believing it too.

She was having one of those moments now.

She gazed into the looking-glass, her reflection dim. She looked glum and rather tired: not her idea of a Saviour. What would a Saviour look like, anyway? Somehow it was easier for her to imagine a male version, an impeccable knight. Annoyingly, the memory of her ex-fiancé came to mind before she banished the image entirely. As for a female Saviour... well, she would resemble a Goddess, surely, with long, lustrous hair and a look of shining conviction in her eyes. Cora plucked at one of her corkscrew curls disconsolately.

_Isn't this what I wanted, deep down? A cause I could follow? Someone truly believing in me? _

She had a measure of that once, and it had been bitter in some ways: her dear mentor Drogan, a second father to her, sacrificed his life for her. At least she had completed his task: at least she had not died some lonely death in Undrentide, her last thoughts acknowledging that she had failed him. But how could she pull off such a feat twice? At least Drogan had trained her, knowing all her faults as well as her strengths: the Seer did not know her at all. There was something unnerving about a complete stranger believing that she could save her people, to put it mildly.

_Perhaps she's mad._

Yet the Seer did not seem insane: at least not the madness which brought to mind the poor, drooling specimens who were sometimes brought into temples for healing. She was calm and lucid, exuding a sincerity which Cora could imagine would be infectious, drawing followers to her. But this was not Cora's religion, not her people, not her world. Everything was alien here in the Underdark, and she needed to accustom herself to its ways quickly.

She had to stop this brooding, she decided: it definitely wasn't helping. It was time to take a nap. Starting to undress, she emptied her pockets, finding nothing save for a single, large silver coin. _Strange... _She vaguely recalled pocketing a few coins after the last fight, but nothing of that size. She turned the coin over in her hands, studying it. On one side was an image of a female with hair flowing around her shoulders in soft waves. On the flip side, letters were arranged in a circle, spelling out M O R A T Y. The word made no sense to her at all, but when she followed the circle of letters around once more, she realised that it was supposed to read as Tymora. _Lady Luck? _She still had no idea how the coin had got there, but she thought she should keep it. She was going to need all the luck she could get.

0-0-0

On the surface of Toril, the half-orc doorman of the Yawning Portal lifted a certain halfling rogue into the air by his collar.

"This the thief you tol' me 'bout, guv'nor?" he called to Durnan. "Uh...him what took the forks?"

"I'm telling ya, I didn't take nothing from this dump!" Tomi yelled, his legs kicking wildly. "Not one silver fork!"

"Grayban didn't say they were silver," said Durnan. "Funny how you knew, since I don't use them for my regular clientele."

"Look, if you let go of me, I'll get the chance to tell you my important message! Is this how you treat all your heroes?"

Durnan snorted, but he instructed Grayban to set the aggrieved halfing down on his feet.

Tomi shook his shoulders. "That's better. Now, listen up! What I'm going to say is well worth listening to, so cast aside your suspicions for one minute, eh?"

Durnan folded his arms across his chest. "Just get on with it, Undergallows."

"Well, for a start I can tell you that Halaster's alive and well. Not quite right in the head, but that's not the point. The drow were holding him prisoner, but now we've set him free, and he sent me all the way back here just to tell you all about it. You and the rest of Waterdeep can take a good long sigh of relief. Crack open your best wine, and while you're at it, you can pour a glass for the bearer of good news."

Durnan's expression softened. "It is truly over?"

"I can't see anything else happening now. There's some overblown drow matron drumming up trouble down in the Underdark, but that's not our concern. I don't see her trapping Halaster a second time, do you?"

"No, given what I know of him, it doesn't seem likely. He may be half mad, but there's a reason why he has been able to keep such tight control of Undermountain for so long. Maybe I will pour a drink for you after all. With good tidings such as that, I would even serve you up a meal with my silver cutlery, if it hadn't gone missing a week or so ago."

"Really? Shocking, that. You wouldn't have thought a drow assassin would bother to nick silverware, would ya?"

"No, I wouldn't think that at all," deadpanned Durnan.

"So, when do I get the big reward?"

"It won't be handed over in any hurry. We have to feel entirely certain there is no risk of further attacks, and the Masked Lords will want to arrange a presentation, so I'd say you have a few weeks to wait. Also we need to know who else was with you. When Linu returned here, she told me that Cora and the kobold were in your company when she last saw you. What happened to them?"

"Now that's where it gets a little more complicated, but I'll tell you the rest over dinner, eh?"

Some time later, having eaten a meal fit for someone easily twice his size, Tomi slipped out into the streets of Waterdeep. If he had a few weeks to wait, at least he could occupy himself. Once word got around that the raids were over, there wouldn't be so many doors barred from the inside.

He slipped over to the dimly-lit side of the street, rounding the corner, only to see the shadowy outline of a face he hadn't seen for a long time.

"Well, well, Grin. I think it's time to call in a few debts, don'tcha think? You've been slippery as a fish, but ya luck's finally run out."

The feral gleam in Sammy's eye was enough to tell Tomi that it was not a good time to hang around and reminisce about the old days. The fact that Sammy was also fondling a dagger in a slightly crazed manner wasn't exactly reassuring either, especially when a couple more shadowy figures emerged behind him. Tomi broke into a run even before his one-time friend finished speaking.

It was a tough chase, but he'd thought he'd finally given Sammy the slip when he darted into an alleyway. He ran along the narrow way until he saw a dead end up ahead. Still, he'd best hide here for now: backtracking might be equally risky. He spotted a cat, black as pitch, scrabbling at something on the ground right at the end of the alley. As he neared the animal, he realised it was toying with the handle on a manhole cover.

Tomi tugged at the handle, and almost fell backwards as the cover lifted easily. The cat jumped straight down the hole, making a yowl of protest as it landed with a splash into the murky puddles below.

"Don't think I'm rescuing you, moggy. I've no time for that." Tomi lowered himself into the gap. Clinging with one hand to the ladder, he used his other hand to pull over the manhole cover, but even as he did so, he heard a shouted "Oi!" coming from the street above.

"No time at all," Tomi said, jumping down the last couple of feet before breaking into a run, with the cat loping ahead as if it was leading the way.


	7. Chapter 7 Tact

**Chapter 7 - Tact**

After a few hours away, Nathyrra and Valen returned to the Temple. The Seer engaged Nathyrra in conversation almost immediately, whilst Valen stood a little way aside from them for the time being. As he soon discovered, he was still within earshot of the two drow females.

"I was meaning to ask you a little more about your time in Undermountain, now that you are rested. I trust that you and the Saviour worked well together?" said the Seer brightly.

Nathyrra nodded. "Everything went smoothly, save for the unfortunate business with Halaster's geas. It's just that..."

"Go on, Nathyrra. I sense that you have more to say. Please feel free to share any impressions you have. Although I have every faith in the Saviour, I wish to ensure that we work as effectively as possible with her."

_What is so effective about placing blind trust in a stranger, Mother Seer?_ Valen kept his thoughts to himself. The Seer already knew how he felt: he could not change her mind any more than she could alter his.

"There is something..." Nathyrra said, still sounding hesitant. "One of them, a rogue, was not sent here, but I found them surprisingly playful as a group. Childlike, even. They often joked around, even on one occasion where stealth was called for."

Valen could have thrown up his hands in exasperation. _Childlike? Playful?_ If the so-called Saviour did not grasp the gravity of their situation, then either she was doomed to fail or she knew something they didn't. Either way, it did not bode well. Not wishing to hear any more, he stalked away.

Having moved out of earshot, Valen did not hear Nathyrra's next words. "To be honest, I had some doubts about their abilities until I fought alongside them. They showed a remarkable change in mood, becoming more focused and deadly. There's an intensity in the way Cora fights, as if she is driven by something within. Even the kobold managed to score a few hits with his crossbow, and his bardic song is effective, if somewhat painful to hear. They are more competent than they first appear."

"That's reassuring to hear, Nathyrra. Perhaps it means that our enemies will underestimate them. I'm glad that you were there to fight with them, and I'm sure you would have been able to persuade Cora to come here, even without the geas."

"Thank you, Mother Seer. Do you wish me to accompany them on the search for potential allies?"

"I may wish you to do that later, but I have some other duties for you in the meantime." The Seer lowered her voice. "I have the impression that Valen has been champing at the bit these last couple of days. I think he needs some time out of the city and an escort mission might do him some good."

Nathyrra looked at the Seer with a surprised expression, but she did not raise any objections: perhaps the Seer understood something she was failing to grasp. From her own point of view, it seemed like a unwise move, given the way that Valen had reacted to Cora's arrival.

Once Nathyrra had left the Temple, the Seer walked over to Valen with slow, deliberate steps, her slippered feet making no sound. "I was hoping that Cora and her companion would have returned from their rest by now."

"I wouldn't expect too much from them, Seer. No doubt they are looking for an escape route," Valen said, with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I do hope you're wrong. Whatever her intent, the geas is real enough. I can feel its force is deeply enmeshed into her soul. It must be hard for her to bear." Knowing how strongly Valen felt about all forms of enslavement, the Seer hoped to spark some sympathy for Cora's situation.

Valen only shrugged. "Even if she were doing this voluntarily, I would still have serious doubts about why a stranger would be so eager to offer help."

"I am aware of your feelings, but I have a favour to ask of you nonetheless. I would feel much reassured if Cora had a guide who knows the Underdark well."

He considered her words. "And who might that guide be? I hope you're not suggesting that I should be the one to take her?" His expression betrayed just how unimpressed he was by the idea.

"Not if it is against your will. It is your choice to make, Valen, and yours alone."

He shook his head. "Then I will go and check on her, answer any questions she has, but nothing more beyond that. Let the job go to Nathyrra or someone else. I cannot imagine a single reason why I would want to escort someone whom I do not trust."

"Perhaps the lack of trust would be reason in itself?" she said mildly. "You could allay your concerns by observing her."

"Or confirm them," he said, shooting her a direct look. "If the latter happened, you know that I would want to deal with the problem in my own way."

The Seer considered his words. She could all too easily guess what Valen's 'own way' would involve. If the Saviour made a wrong move, Valen would be likely to act with swift violence rather than returning to warn her. The Seer had wanted to encourage him to accompany Cora, without pressing the matter too strongly. She knew that the proud Weapon Master would resent Cora all the more if he was bluntly ordered to work with her. Yet now she wondered if it was worth the risk, throwing them together. Of course, there were also potential benefits: if they could foster a mutual respect, it would be far easier for them for work well together in the coming battle. She also had a hunch that there was a greater reason for ensuring their paths would cross, something which would remain significant even beyond the confrontation with the Valsharess. Vague as the feeling was, she chose not to mention it.

"I can only hope that your worst fears about Cora are not confirmed," she said.

"I don't have_ fears_, Seer. Merely suspicions."

"Well then," she said, smiling at him with her customary patience. "The same applies if your _suspicions_ are confirmed. I trust you to act wisely as well as decisively."

He gave her a curt nod, and took a couple of steps away from her when he suddenly turned back. "You speak of _trust?_ Only a few months ago you had great confidence in me... when you asked me to lead your forces. Yet now that she is here -"

Just before he broke off, his voice took on a rougher edge, and for a brief moment the Seer observed a flash of something other than anger in his eyes. Just as swiftly, Valen's customary scowl fell back into place. "Never mind. I will go and check on your Saviour, if there is nothing else."

"Please... wait, good Valen."

Although the Seer would have never relinquished the visions that were a gift from her Goddess, sometimes it meant that details of the present escaped her attention. Lately, she had been so caught up in her visions that she had failed to notice the deep core of hurt underlying Valen's scepticism about the Saviour. Clearly she had been tactless. What was less clear was how to rectify the matter without either going back on her decision or wounding his pride further.

Laying a dark hand upon his arm, she noticed how his brow knotted in consternation. She had laid her hands on him many times before as a healer, but never with the simple, comforting touch of a friend.

"I have always accepted that you do not share my faith or believe in my visions. Before now, it has never caused dissent between us. I think you trust in my ability to judge someone's character, however. Do you remember, Valen? Years ago, I saw the goodness and humanity within a tiefling warrior, attributes that were hidden so deeply within his tormented soul that he could not see them for himself. Don't you think it's possible that I find something of equal worth in Cora, even though I do not know her well?"

He said nothing at all in reply, roughly tearing his arm away from her grip before leaving the temple. The Seer watched him leave, a faint sadness apparent in her silver eyes, and she offered a swift, silent prayer to her Goddess that all would go well.

* * *

Valen could not find Cora or the kobold in their rooms, and she was no more easy to find in the city. He began to wonder if his jest about Cora's search for an escape route had a ring of truth to it. Noticing Imloth, he stopped to exchange words for a moment, and learned that the two newcomers had walked past him a short while ago, heading in the direction of the Maeviir Public House. Sighing, the erstwhile General of the Seer's forces walked towards the building on his trivial errand.

Shouldering his way past two drow males, he immediately spotted Cora, who was engaged in conversation with the daughter of House Maeviir. He frowned. This surfacer female knew nothing of the Underdark, yet here she was talking to someone who was even more coldly calculating than some of the other drow, in his opinion. He walked closer to listen - he could not rely on stealth, but Cora's back was to him and she would not spot him immediately.

"You want me to kill your own _mother?_"

Valen tensed as he heard Cora's words. That one of the drow, especially one who was not a follower of Eilistraee, was openly hatching such a plan didn't surprise him, but it still gave him a sick feeling of disgust. Without saying anything, he waited just out of Cora's line of sight. The kobold had already spotted Valen, shooting him a wary glance from his reptilian eyes, but thankfully he did not speak.

"You sound so surprised," said Zesyyr. "Clearly you have no comprehension of our ways, but I need your sword, not your understanding. Do it, and I will give you 20,000 in gold. 20,000 to spend as you wish. You could buy a weapon upgrade or superior armour, which you are in urgent need of if you are to survive here. If you need nothing so practical, it could buy you all manner of amusement - assuming that a rivvil like you could possibly think of something entertaining to do."

"It's nowhere near enough money, for what you're asking of me," said Cora.

Valen noted that she had not made a definite refusal yet. To his ears, it sounded as if Cora was haggling over the blood price, not the morality of the matter. _And this is supposed to be our saviour._

"I can offer no more - take it or leave it. Bear in mind what I told you earlier, if the reward is not reason enough," said Zesyyr coldly.

Cora was silent for a while, gazing at the floor. Finally she said, "I need to think some more about it."

"Fine. Just remember that while you weigh up my generous offer, we do not know when the Valsharess will attack. Don't wait forever, will you?" Zesyyr offered Cora a poisonous little smile before she looked away. When the daughter of House Maeviir noticed Valen standing nearby, she called out to him.

"Ah, if it isn't the Seer's tame _Weapon_ Master. How are you these days, Valen? I haven't seen you for quite a while. Why, it's almost as if you feel nervous about coming in here for some reason." She shot him a knowing glance which started at his face and travelled downwards before lingering in one spot only.

Valen felt his face heating up. "Wrong. This place holds no interest for me whatsoever," he said, scowling at her.

The nearby drow males looked on in astonishment: even though Zesyyr was not yet a House Mother, they would never have spoken to her with such insolence. Still, what did they expect from uncivilised demon-spawn like him?

Cora, meanwhile, looked no more at ease than Valen. Her face was pale, and she gnawed at her lower lip as she walked towards him. Her obvious discomfiture made Valen feel just a little better.

"Enjoying the sights of Lith My'athar?" he said, just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yes, everything's... just fine," she said, her face betraying the doubts she refused to voice. "I've just been looking around, getting the measure of the city before I left. Rizolvir's a marvellous smith, isn't he? I don't think I've ever seen a forge which offers so many possibilities before."

When Valen did not respond to her conversational gambit, she added "By the way, I was meaning to ask your advice about the islands across the river. Do you have any idea which one might be best to approach first?"

Normally Valen would have confronted her about the question of House Maeviir's daughter, but not here, where Zesyyr's lackeys could easily eavesdrop. No, he would ask her when they were away from listening ears, picking a time when she would be least expecting it. In the meantime, he would need to keep a much closer eye on her. As he walked out of the Public House, he began to tell her about the islands, all the while thinking about what his next course of action should be.

* * *

"I intend to go with you."

Cora's first reaction was surprise that Valen would offer to escort them. The second was a sinking sensation.

"Why?"

The Weapon Master looked out over the green waters nearby to the darkness beyond. "Because the Seer asked me to, and you need a guide who knows the Underdark well." There was a distinct reluctance in his voice.

"Are you sure about this? You don't seem to trust me."

His answer was blunt. "I don't know you. None of us do, and the truth is that you owe us absolutely nothing. You have no reason whatsoever to help any of us."

"Except for this geas," she said snappily. "The prospect of dying is reason enough, don't you think? As far as motivations go, it's quite compelling."

He stared at her coldly. He was rather good at that, she thought.

"Without a guide, you will likely die all the sooner," he said. "If you wish to leave, I suggest we cut this conversation short and just move on."

_Yes, let's just move on and stab the outsider, shall we? They're all tricky, you know_, muttered Enserric. _Ahem... nothing personal, my dear._

Cora smiled faintly to herself. She couldn't imagine why the sword thought she would take his comments personally. Frankly, after the welcome Valen had given her, Enserric's interjection amused her no end.

She could have walked away, told Valen that she didn't need him. She could have gone looking for Nathyrra, or asked the Seer to assign her a more congenial guide. Instead, she walked towards the boat, saying nothing more, and when he followed her silently, she did not stop him. He looked as if he would be a particularly strong fighter, and she'd almost certainly need assistance of that kind. Whether they could get along well was of less critical importance.

_Or was it?_

As the boat began to glide away from its moorings, she thought of Madame Elista, the soothsayer who'd influenced her decision to answer the call to Undermountain. The old woman had mentioned an unusually honourable drow, the servant of a deity: there was no question in Cora's mind that she must have been describing the Seer. If Madame Elista was correct about that, shouldn't she take some of the other predictions seriously? Hadn't the soothsayer emphasised the supreme importance of finding companions she could trust? Such reliance needed to be mutual. Cora knew that Deekin trusted her implicitly - his faith in 'Boss' was unshakable, even if his deepest motivation was the desire to collect material for another epic tale. Her new guide, so taciturn and unfriendly, was another matter altogether.

As if her thoughts had summoned him to her side, Valen approached her. Instead of making polite conversation, he made a suggestion which sounded suspiciously close to an order. "Don't stand so near to the edge. There's a reason why there are seats in the middle of this craft."

"I'm not going to fall in, you know," she said with a touch of irritability. "If anyone has good sea legs around here, it's me. The current may be strong, but there aren't any significant waves out into the distance."

"You can see into the darkness beyond?"

"A way ahead, but it's as if all the colour is bleeding away. Even your hair doesn't look so red any more, now that we're moving away from the city. It's taking on a greyish tone, and the same goes for everything else."

He touched a stray strand of hair which had escaped from his ponytail, pulling it forward between his fingertips in order to study it more closely. He turned his attention back to Cora. "It sounds as if you have some measure of darkvision," he said, a thoughtful look on his face. "It's an unexpected trait in a surfacer. What race are you?"

The question surprised her, coming as she did from a land where humans were in the majority. "Human, of course." She noticed that he looked faintly puzzled by her answer, as if it didn't match what he was seeing. Self-consciously, she touched the slightly pointed tip of her right ear. "More or less, anyway. There's probably some elven blood way back, but it can't be very much." She was about to satisfy her own curiosity by asking him about his heritage, but he was the first to speak.

"I thought humans on the surface would have little need for darkvision. I thought..." He shook his head. "Never mind."

"I always assumed it was normal," she said. "Mind you, I drank a lot of carrot soup when I was young. My family kept a vegetable patch in our courtyard, and we'd get huge gluts of carrots at certain times of year. I can't stand the stuff now, but maybe all the soup helped me to see well in the dark," she said, offering him a faint smile. She might as well try to be friendly. If she shared something about her life, however inconsequential, or made the occasional silly jest, he might begin to unwind a little in response.

He made no comment, and was about to walk away when he turned back to her. "Regardless of how well you can see, standing by the edge of the boat is still risky. Consider yourself warned."

Her smile faded. It almost sounded like a threat. "Warning noted," she said turning her back on him, looking down into the shifting waters as he walked away, although her fingers gripped the handrail a little tighter than before. She had every intention of taking his advice if she thought it was sensible, but she wasn't going to allow him to push her around.

* * *

Valen was already beginning to regret his decision to accompany the strangers. Sitting down, he became caught up in the most bizarre conversation with the kobold, who seemed to possess the childlike traits of a boundless curiosity and a staggering lack of tact. Gritting his teeth, he answered the kobold's intrusive questions about his 'goat-horns,' whilst keeping one eye trained on the young woman who was so stubbornly refusing to shift.

Just as he had been expecting, Cora suddenly made a rolling motion, her knees almost buckling, although there had been no wave. He stood up, inwardly berating himself for volunteering for this fool's errand, and hurried towards the ailing surfacer. As she swayed again, he gripped her firmly by the elbow.

"Feeling sick?"

"Fine," she said, gasping slightly as she tried to shake his hand away. He did not let go. "Just want to..." she caught her breath, "need... to sit down awhile." He kept by her side as she swayed towards the seats, ready to catch her if she fell.

If he had been able to see in colour just then, he knew that her tanned complexion would have taken on a sallow, greenish shade: from her gasping breaths, she was on the verge of retching.

"You all right, Boss?" said the kobold, evidently concerned.

"Fine... don't worry."

Valen walked away, exchanging a few words with Cavallas before returning with a potion bottle in his hand. In silence he handed the potion to Cora, who drank it down too hastily, coughing and spluttering.

"Thanks," she said, offering him a wan smile.

He didn't want her to be friendly, or grateful: he wanted her to stay out of trouble and inconvenience him as little as possible.

"Next time, listen when I tell you something," he snapped. "Those waters exude noxious gases which are almost scentless. The only safe place to sit is here in the middle, where Cavallas has cast a zone of sweet air. This is nothing like some scenic river on the surface, and that applies to everything in the Underdark. You won't last more than a day if you fail to recognise that."

"I don't recall you mentioning the fumes at all," she said in a tight voice. "So next time you have some advice, why not make it a tiny bit more specific rather than some vague prophecy of doom?" As she said the last word, Deekin, who was engaged with doodling a sketch of Cavallas, perked up.

"You wants Deekin to sing the Doom Song now, Boss?"

"Not now, Deekin... no, on second thoughts, sing on." She desperately needed something to boost her ailing constitution right now.

Valen winced as the kobold plucked out a few apparently random notes on his lyre, yelling "Doom Doom Dooooooom," in uncomfortably close proximity to his ear. If this was going to keep up, he'd soon have an overwhelming urge to strangle someone. He genuinely didn't know whether he would start on the female or her companion first.


	8. Chapter 8 Fell Creatures

**Chapter 8 - Fell Creatures**

As she disembarked from Cavallas's boat, Cora felt the touch of a hand on her arm. Turning around, she saw Valen looming in the shadows behind her.

"Feeling better yet?"

"Mostly," she replied, her voice impassive. She was over her nausea, but she noticed something else, a faint sense of fatigue. The nap she had back in Lith My'athar could not have been for long enough.

"Good. I think we need to take extra care here. According to rumour, this town suddenly sprang up out of nowhere even though the isle was uninhabited beforehand. Many of the Underdark inhabitants would wonder what's ripe for the picking here."

"Since we're here to see what we can find, are we so very different?"

"We're not intending to sack the place - we need allies, not more enemies. Still, I suspect that the Valsharess will send someone here to have a look, if she hasn't already done."

"I'll bear it in mind," she said, striding forward.

Valen placed a hand on her shoulder, this time in a rougher grip. "Wait."

"What now?" she asked, slightly nettled by the manhandling.

"Trap." He slipped past her, crouching down onto the rocky pathway.

"Such friendly locals you have around here, putting out a welcome mat," she said, waiting for him to disarm the device.

"You won't find much hospitality outside of the Seer's camp," he said as he worked. "There are few denizens of the Underdark who would not enslave you or have you for their dinner."

She knew he was trying to give her some good advice: she guessed he was also doing his best to put her in her place by constantly reminding her of her lack of experience with the Underdark. "Nice. Since you live here, what kind of treatment should Deekin and I expect from you, then? Enslavement or eating?"

He gave her a quizzical look as he stood up. "Neither, my lady - and I doubt I'd find your kobold very palatable fare."

"Deekin's old Master always threatening to have him for dinner - but Master just saying that as a joke. He eats cows most of the time, even though they gives him bad gas," said the kobold.

As they crept ahead, Cora thought she overheard a muttered 'pity' from under the Weapon Master's breath. Choosing not to comment, she kept walking around the corner, jerking back when an arrow whistled past her head.

As Valen made to dash past her, it was Cora's turn to grab him by the arm. She took a small, petty satisfaction in hampering him.

"What are you doing?"

"Let them come to us."

Ignoring Valen's frustrated sigh, Cora focused her mind. As the pressure built up behind her fingertips, she leaned around the corner, reciting a few choice words before spreading her fingertips wide to throw out the spell. Ducking backwards, she heard the sound of crackling flames and cries of pain before the first of the drow reached them.

They were soon outnumbered, but at least a few of their assailants were injured from the spell. Drawing Enserric, Cora parried and slashed against two opponents. Behind her, Deekin seemed curiously silent, not singing his Doom Song, but Cora was reassured when a large dire wolf was summoned to her side. The animal attacked the assailant to her left, leaving her the chance to take the right-hand enemy within closest reach.

Just as she vanquished the drow, she realised that Valen had disappeared. Looking around the corner, she saw him in the thick of battle against three drow. Although the odds seemed poor, he quickly improved them by whirling around, tail and flail flying, to hit all three in succession, knocking out one assailant immediately. _One down, two to go... _Running to join him with the dire wolf at her heels, Cora saw a hellhound manifesting close by, and she realised a spellcaster couldn't be far away. Leaving Deekin's summoning to deal with the new enemy, she scanned the scene, spotting a drow female in blood-red armour.

The woman looked her up and down, uttering a phrase in Drow which sounded as if it was entirely comprised of expletives. Cora tried to cast a spell, but the drow was quicker, and her concentration failed as she felt the sting of several tiny missiles raining successive blows on her skin. Giving up on the attempt to beat the other woman at her own game, Cora leapt forward to fight. She managed to land a couple of telling blows before Valen joined her by her side.

The woman was cornered: she would not last long, or so it appeared. As the drow raised her hands, Cora swung to hit her before the spell could take effect, but she never reached her mark. Enserric moved as if through treacle, and then came to a halt. Cora could see the kinked chain of Valen's flail suspended in mid-air, not yet fully extended. Only the drow made any movement, making a complicated set of arm gestures which could only mean another spell was being cast.

"This isn't over," said the drow in Common: her form melted away just before time began to move once more. Sword and flail continued their course as if there had been no interruption, making fruitless blows on thin air.

Cora was bleeding from a few injuries - thankfully nothing too serious - and she noticed the same of Valen. After bending to pick up a couple of items dropped during the battle, she made her way to the shelter from a rocky outcrop nearby, leaning her back on the wall. Reaching into her pack, Cora took out two potion bottles: one was for herself, one for the Weapon Master. To her surprise, he did the same.

"Snap! Thanks for offering," she said before putting the other bottle away.

Valen swigged down his potion and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth before he replied. "So that's how you operate in combat. I found it curious that you used a mixture of magic and fighting. I've seen some drow do the same before, but your approach is more like a traditional soldier than an assassin."

"I'm mostly a fighter, in truth. I learned a few spells a while back, and I find them useful when I need to hit a few enemies at once. I couldn't possibly do that with a melee weapon."

"Really? I don't have a single magical spell to my name, yet I still have a way of making sure I hit several foes at the same time." he said.

Cora detected more than a hint of smugness. _Yes, you're good, and you know all about it too. _"Oh yes, I noticed the attack where you spin around with the flail. It would be useless from a distance, though..."

"True enough, but your spells don't seem to be quite as handy close up while you're taking hits, do they?" he countered, a faint smirk on his face.

Cora rolled her eyes. "All right, you've got me there, big man. If it makes you feel any better, I'll admit that you fight like a demon."

It was as if an iron door abruptly slammed shut between them. The smirk disappeared, and although he wasn't yet scowling, Valen's face was suddenly devoid of expression. "Are you making some kind of joke?"

His reaction puzzled her: had she unwittingly offended him? "It was just a turn of phrase. You don't take compliments well, do you?"

He was definitely frowning now. "I wasn't aware it was a compliment, but no, I don't fight like a demon any more. I choose not to, unless my life is hanging by a thread."

She didn't understand. His words were clear enough, yet she had a feeling there was something else behind them, a layer of meaning that he understood and she was entirely failing to grasp. "Where did you learn to fight like that, anyway?"

He hesitated. "I'd rather not say. I'm not sure I want to discuss my past with a stranger."

"That's fine, I wasn't trying to pry," she said, getting faintly offended now. "I was only trying to make conversation. After all, we're likely to remain strangers, if we never exchange a word between us." She suspected he wanted it to stay that way, but she was accustomed to having a little friendly banter with her travelling companions.

She walked a few feet away, going to check what Deekin was doing: he was searching one of the corpses. Seeing her, he lifted up a creamy cloak, now rather badly stained with gore from its previous owner. "You wants this, Boss? Looks like it gots a strong enchantment on it."

"Thanks, Deeks - though I might give it a good wash before I put it on."

Cora took the cloak, rolling it up with the clean sections on the outer side so that she could pack it away. As she turned around, she noticed that Valen was staring at her, as if he still had something else to say.

"You know what I am, don't you?"

She immediately guessed that he was not referring to his rank in the rebel army, nor was he talking about his combat specialisation. "No," she answered, as she slowly walked back to him. "I've never seen anyone who looks like you before."

She noticed the sudden, unconscious way he brushed his fingers through his hair, briefly touching his horns as if reminding himself that they were still there. Lifting his hand away, he looked directly back at her. "I'm a tiefling."

She'd heard the word in the past, she was sure of it. She just couldn't grasp when or where. Giving up on the struggle to remember, she said "I'm not entirely sure what the word means."

His intense gaze flicked over her. Cora had the impression that he found her as puzzling as she found him, in spite of the fact that she'd just made a simple, honest statement about her own ignorance.

"You genuinely don't know? Tieflings have demonic or devilish ancestry. In my case, I have the fiery blood of a demon running through my veins."

_Demon? _She found herself stumbling over her next words. "But you're human...I mean...you look just like a man to me. Well, save for the horns - and the tail."

"That's because my mother was human and my father was a cambion." Noting that there was another look of incomprehension forming on Cora's face, he added. "Half human, half fiend."

"Are you evil?" she blurted out clumsily.

The line of his mouth hardened. "There is an infernal lust for violence and suffering within me."

_At last, something we have in common after all! _said Enserric brightly, inside Cora's mind. It couldn't have been a more inappropriate interruption, and the sword silenced himself voluntarily when he realised the extent of Cora's discomfiture.

"The taint is always there within me, but sometimes it is close to the surface, and sometimes it is just a shadow, lurking in the background, reminding me that I am not fully human," explained Valen. "You should also know that I have spent a lifetime battling against it - and that is why I say that I prefer not to fight like a demon." He gave her a searching glance, as if he awaited her reaction, be it good or ill.

Cora looked away, saying nothing. From that first meeting in the Temple of Lolth, she had known his ancestry must be something wildly exotic... but part _demon?_ She knew she wasn't handling this well, that she should just snap out of it. She didn't even understand why the notion disturbed her so much. After all, she was beginning to adjust to the idea that not all of the drow had evil ways. Why should Valen be any different, especially if he chose to fight against his demonic impulses rather than giving into them?

_There are exceptions to every rule. Remember that. _Once again, the soothsayer's words came back to her.

When Cora faced Valen once more, she noticed that his expression appeared as troubled as her own thoughts. She wondered how many times he'd had these kinds of conversations, and how people had responded. She could imagine that a positive reaction would be vanishingly rare.

"Does my nature bother you?" he asked her.

Of that, she had no doubt. She also knew that no-one could help who their parents were. After all, her natural mother had given her away, and it was probable that her father was a rapist, from the little she'd been told. She looked him straight in the eyes. "I will judge you by your actions, not your blood."

If she thought he would be mollified, she was wrong. He tilted his head, studying her. "Will you? Your words might sound sincere, but your uneasy manner tells another story."

It wasn't the reaction Cora expected, after all the effort she'd made to be tolerant. "Why not simply wait and see how I behave towards you? That way, we can both judge each other by our actions." _After all, it's not as if you trust me, either, _she thought.

It was time to move on. As they walked away in silence, a recollection came to Cora's mind, from a time when she was yet a child, small enough that she needed to stand on a chair in order to access the top shelf in her family library. One day, on a cool, rainy afternoon, she'd found a book on demonology. It had far too many incomprehensibly long words for her reading age at the time, but the lurid illustrations fascinated her. She recalled the look of alarm on her adoptive mother's face when she found her young charge absorbed in reading the weighty volume. Helene, normally such a gentle, easy-going woman, had snatched the book roughly from her small hands. She said it was unsuitable for children, and would only frighten her, giving her nightmares, but it was Helene who appeared fearful at the time, not Cora. After that, of course, Cora wanted to read the book all the more, since it now had the seductive thrill of the forbidden. Although she searched quite carefully around the house when she had the chance, she never found the book again.

_Gods, I'd forgotten all about that many years ago. How old was I then? Seven, maybe eight? _

She brought her mind fully back to the present as she saw a couple of winged elves ahead them, one male, one female, apparently unarmed. The nearby wall torches cast a little light upon them: their hair was an inky blue, their features refined. Even then, she guessed they were poor specimens compared with their usual kind: as she walked closer, she saw their clothes were ragged, their wings tattered and mangy.

Closer still, the brightness in their eyes appeared feverish.

"Welcome to our wonderful town of Shaori's Fell!" Mask-like grins were fixed on their faces.

At least they were friendly. It was fast becoming a novelty not to be greeted by a hail of arrows.

"Thank you. Do you... like living here in the Underdark?"

"Oh yes! We love it here. It's so dark and inviting. Cosy, even. Why, in the past we had..." A look of pain crossed his face momentarily. "No. I won't talk about the place. So much open space and fresh air, the endless vistas - it's far too depressing to relate."

"We're much happier now." said the woman brightly. "Aren't we?" She exchanged a rather manic smile with her companion.

"Don't you have any trouble with the drow? We encountered a group of them earlier."

"Why would there be trouble? We're rather fond of our dark cousins."

"I thought that surface elves and drow generally despised one another," said Valen.

"Not at all. They're very welcome here, just as you are. We wish them the best of luck in finding what they seek here."

"What is it that they seek?"

"They... aah!" The female avariel winced with pain.

Cora glanced sideways at Valen, and taking it as a cue, he leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "I wonder if they are under some form of enchantment. Best not push them too hard."

Frowning hard, the female elf said "I... don't remember. Please, seek out our Queen. She's living in a cave just past our library - perhaps she'll know."

Cora nodded and left quickly. Friendly though the elves were, they were giving her the creeps.

0-0-0-0-0

If Cora was hoping to find much help from the leader who had given the town its name, she was quickly disappointed. Perhaps the location should have given her a clue: there was a sturdy castle looming in the distance, and instead the ruler was camped inside a small, damp, musty cave. All the monarch had in her possession was a bedroll, bucket and a simple cooking pot, but this was not the self-imposed simplicity of a religious hermit. Instead the Queen exuded an air of bitterness, as if any inner peace eluded her.

"I suppose you expect an audience with me, like everyone always does. Why is that? What's wrong with everyone, that they have to pester me so? I had quite enough of it when my home was up in the clouds. When I came down here, my people became even worse, clamouring for help. Thankfully they've learned not to trouble me any more. So why don't you go away too?"

"Do you really care so little about them? You have the privilege of being their Queen, and with such power comes responsibility. Your people must be looking to you for leadership, and from the way you're talking, it sounds like you've abandoned them. Giving audiences is just one small part of your duty." Cora had spent many hours hearing sermons about duty and obedience during her lifetime. Sometimes they had lulled her into a near-coma, but it was the only argument she could think of for the time being.

To her surprise, the Queen didn't make the logical and obvious point that Cora was not one of the Avariel, therefore she owed her nothing at all. Instead, Shaori ranted in a way that sounded like the petulant protestations of a teenager. "Don't you tell me what duty is - I'm not responsible for anyone or anything except myself! I hate people who do that!"

"Don't you realise what will happen if you leave your position empty? Someone else will take your place before you know it, most likely one of the Valsharess's minions. We've already fought off an armed group of drow here, twice over. We had to tackle a group of them outside this cave."

The Queen waved her hands. "Yes, yes, I know about the drow. They were in here asking about that damnable mirror, right before you barged in. They were annoying enough, but you're even worse."

"Mirror? What mirror?"

"See? Endless questions. I suppose you want to explain it to you in laborious detail? I'll tell you, if only you'll promise to leave me alone at last."

"I promise," Cora said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"I thought the mirror was useful at first," Shaori said, closing her eyes. "A great magical artifact. You can use it to spy on other people if you wish. Such a waste of effort, caring about what my enemies were doing! It's far easier to cultivate indifference and fade away into merciful oblivion."

The Queen's current form of oblivion didn't look merciful to Cora, given the tension she radiated. She stilled the retort on her tongue, though, knowing that an interruption might irritate the Queen further, stopping her from talking.

"I was foolish, using the mirror to look further afield, outside of the mountains. There are so many things you think you need to do when you're a Queen. Have audiences, rule a kingdom, keep an eye on the competition... all nonsense, of course. I thought it was a wise idea to cast my gaze as far away as Undermountain to check upon Halaster's plans. Strange, I forget why I wanted to spy on him, now."

"Deekin thinks it never a good idea to annoy Halaster. Boss knows all about that."

"He transported our whole town here, cursed us to stay. At the same time, the mirror smashed." The Queen fell silent, her expression forlorn.

Cora decided that it was time to make her pitch, saying what she'd really come here for. "Believe me, I understand how it feels to be stuck here. Halaster put a geas on me, so I can't leave the Underdark until the Valsharess is defeated. It's all that he seems to care about at the moment. Perhaps the mage would be prepared to lift your curse too, if you joined forces with us. I can't promise anything, but it has to be a better course of action than sitting here feeling trapped."

Valen nodded. "Can you leave this town at all? You could return with us to Lith My'athar. If you show the Seer the mirror, she might be able to advise you."

The Queen pursed her lips. "I knew it! It doesn't end with my telling you about my problems, oh no. _Now_ you want me to go somewhere, make an effort to talk to yet another tiresome person, when all I want is to be left alone! Well, it's too late. The mirror is scattered into pieces and I only had one shard, which I gave it to the drow called Sabal."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? It was a way to make her go away. After all, it wasn't any use to me: I don't know where the other shards are, and I care even less. They would be useless without a frame to hold them together, and that's most likely sitting in the throne room of the castle."

"Who's guarding it?"

"Why, the court jester of course! Who else but a fool would want an empty frame? Now I suppose you're going to go chasing it like a hound after a hare. Don't allow me to detain you!"

0-0-0-0-0

Upon leaving the Queen's cave, Cora sighed. "That's just great. I should feel sorry for Queen Shaori - and I do, in a way, but by the Gods she's apathetic. Maybe it's part of the curse, her being like this. I don't know. I'd hate to think that she was like that all along."

"It's possible," said Valen. "Sometimes people are elevated to positions they haven't earned in any way."

She could have passed it off as a throwaway comment, if it hadn't been for the meaningful glance that he gave her at the same time. She decided to take the bait. " Are you just talking about Queen Shaori here?"

"Not quite," he said, slowing his steps. "There's something I've been wondering about you, Cora. What makes you so special?"

She was taken aback momentarily, but she recovered, making it into a joke. "Besides my charm and beauty, you mean?"

She saw the hint of a smile on his face, although it disappeared quickly. "You have both of those qualities in abundance, but that is not what I meant."

His reply threw her. If it had come from any other man she knew, she would have known how to respond, be it a shared joke, a flirtatious comeback or a put-down. With Valen, she didn't have the measure of him at all. Was he flirting, or being sarcastic? _Surely the latter_, she decided.

"I was in charge of our forces before this. I kept them alive for months until you appeared - and suddenly, it is over." Valen made a slashing motion over his neck.

"Don't you think you're being a little over-dramatic?"

"I've been told that being dramatic is one of my specialities, but that doesn't make my words any less true. When the Valsharess invades, you will be the one leading our forces."

"Do you really believe that? I don't recall the Seer telling me about it."

"I'm sure she plans to put you in charge when the time comes, yet you have no more reason to care about our fate than Queen Shaori does about her people."

"That's unfair. It's hardly the same situation. For a start, they _were_ her own people, as you say yourself. I didn't ask for this, nor did I know any of you before I came here. All I planned to do was to free Halaster, get out of Undermountain and claim the reward money." As soon as she said it, she knew that it wasn't quite true, although a certain level of wanderlust twinned with a visit to a fortune-teller would hardly be likely to impress her suspicious companion either.

"And that's it? You were there for the money alone?"

"Not quite. Someone invited me to help with the attacks on Waterdeep. Someone thought I was _capable_ of helping. If I hadn't been sent here against my will, maybe I would have chosen to come here at Nathyrra's request, I don't know. As for the comparison to the Queen, if we really had anything in common I'd be sitting on my arse back in Lith My'athar, instead of being out here with you. For that matter, why are _you_ here? Of all the people I've seen in the Seer's camp, you're the only one I've met who isn't drow. How did you come to work for her?"

"I'm not sure I want to tell you my reasons just yet."

"So it's all right to quiz me, but when it's turned back on you it's time to clam up?"

"I may talk of it another time. Right now, I don't know or trust you well enough."

_Here we go again, _she thought. The situation faintly reminded her of her rapid elevation in her hometown City Guard. It was one thing to have bards singing about her deeds, but none of the men had seen her performing any of them in person, and it hadn't helped that she'd been away for a few years. There had been some rumours of nepotism, since the Captain was acquainted with her family, but they didn't trouble her overmuch. She had been far more annoyed with the entirely unfounded rumour that she'd earned the promotion on her back. "All right, then. I can think of something else I'd like to ask. Does it trouble you that a young woman has been effectively put in charge of you?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "If you haven't noticed, I am loyal to the Seer's cause, and she happens to be female."

"She must be a good deal older than either of us, probably mature even by elven standards. Maybe that makes a difference to you."

"It's not my reason for following her, but it helps. She has centuries of life experience, although that doesn't always guarantee wisdom. You're still fairly young."

She glanced at Valen. It was difficult to guess his own age. He did not look as youthful as her, but from his broad-shouldered build to the headlong way he leapt into battle, he was probably at his peak of fitness. "I'm old enough to have gained a reputation as a heroine, up on the surface." She'd never have bragged about it normally, but under Valen's intense scrutiny, she felt the need to remind herself that she wasn't entirely useless.

"You wants to read Deekin's book?" piped up Deekin, who had evidently been listening in. Usually when he was quiet for such a protracted period, it meant he'd been taking copious notes.

Valen fixed his contemptuous gaze upon Deekin. "Why would I ever wish to do that, kobold?"

"Deekin tells epic tale of the beautiful human lady known as Boss, and all of her many thrilling adventures."

Cora cringed inwardly.

"I don't think so," Valen said dismissively before turning back to Cora. "You seem to fight with a fair amount of skill, but have you ever led an army?"

"No, but I've read up on military strategy before." _Oh, come on. That's really going to impress him._

"Have you fought in a war for so many years that you fail to remember how much time you spent there?"

"No. Of course not_. _How old are you, anyway?"

Unexpectedly, he looked away from her. "I have no idea."

_You're certainly a strange one, _she thought. She could only assume he was exaggerating wildly about his lost years in battle, but she let it go. "The Seer doesn't know very much about me, yet she's prepared to trust me. Believe it or not, I genuinely appreciate that. Look Valen, I can't promise that I'm going to succeed, but I'm not going to try to betray your Seer, if that's what you're thinking. If you want my word, I'll give it to you."

She never had the chance to hear his response, for they were ambushed once more. If she fought a little more savagely this time, taking a little less care, it was as an outlet for all of her built-up frustration.


	9. Chapter 9 Poison

**Chapter 9 - Poison**

Tomi Undergallows woke from a pleasant dream involving a limber halfling lass sitting astride him, to a reality that was considerably less enjoyable. He opened his eyes to a darkness so complete he saw nothing at all at first. There was a slight pressure on his upper chest: it didn't feel like the weight of a good woman, but something much smaller. Putting his hand up cautiously, he felt damp fur, and heard the sound of a slow, sonorous rumbling.

_Purring?_

A small stream of drool landed in his eye.

"Ugh! Gerroff, moggy!" As he pushed the cat away, he felt a wrench of pain from his shoulder, and remembered how it was he came to be here. Chased by Sammy and his gang into the Waterdeep sewers, he'd run as fast as he could manage after a full and heavy meal. A black cat had been running ahead of him, no doubt the same one which had been sitting on his chest just now. After that, everything had gone even further downhill. Literally. As his enemies closed on him, he'd dashed into an area with a side-stream of effluent which was flowing downwards: he managed to grab onto a solid piece of debris as the gradient increased and the current swept him away on its relentless course downwards.

_I'm doing a pretty good impression of a mushroom, here. Stuck in the dark, covered in..._

He had no idea how the cat had survived the bumpy ride through the stinking rapids. For that matter it was hard to understand how he'd managed to endure the journey without drowning either. _It felt as if I was caught in a bubble, like a Sanctuary spell._ _But who did that? Couldn't have been the bloody cat, surely. _

He sat up, feeling his limbs. He ached all over and he half-wished that he'd lost his sense of smell, but at least he hadn't met a sticky end courtesy of Sammy's daggers. All he needed to do work out where he was, apart from somewhere far beneath the sewers. _Undermountain? Or the Underdark itself? _Either way, he could do with some allies besides one dumb animal. He wondered if Cora and Deekin were still trapped in the Underdark, and whether the drow Nathyrra had brought them to her leader, but he didn't know if he had much chance of finding any of them..

Tomi might have bumped his head as he stood up, had he not the sense to put his hands up first to feel his way around. He seemed to be in quite a low and narrow cavern. Nearby he could still hear the rushing of water, but there was no way he was getting back in that stream again if he could help it. The cat brushed past his legs, making an impatient-sounding chirrup as if the creature knew where it wanted to go and he was just holding it up. One thing was for sure, it wasn't going to do him any good hanging around here: in the absence of any other plan, he might as well follow.

* * *

"Boss, if everything is back-to-front in this city, then how come we nots hanging from our feet like bats?"

Cora chuckled at Deekin's comment. She heard a loud sigh nearby, and without looking, she knew it came from Valen. She wondered if it would be so terrible if certain aspects of her party were reversed. It would be good to have a companion who was actually companionable, for a start.

At least they were making progress. Three mirror shards were safely tucked away in her backpack, the spare cloak wrapped around them for extra protection. If one of the pieces was in Sabal's possession, they still hoped that they would find the final fragment of the cracked mirror within the temple ahead of them. She had found out more about the place after talking to Elicid, a man who had once been Queen Shaori's hapless court jester, now was the wisest man in the city. Elicid had said the once-compassionate priest of Aerdrie Faenya was now a sadistic follower of Talona. Knowing that the priest was likely to be just as afflicted by the mirror's curse as everyone else, Cora hoped that they could persuade him to part with his own segment without resorting to violence.

As Cora pushed open the heavy doorway of the temple, the first thing she noticed was a cage-like area in the middle of the room. A skeleton's arm reached out through the bars, as if it had died whilst trying to escape. If that did not bode well for any kind of useful dialogue with the priest, nor did the condition of the rest of the temple. All of the symbols belonging the former faith had been defaced, whether smashed, ripped or scrawled over. Accustomed as she was to temples where holy symbols were handled in the most most careful, reverent manner, Cora found the desecration a disturbing sight.

The priest grinned at her, not a smile of welcome but something far more calculating, and as she walked closer she was hit by a wave of nausea. A throbbing headache bored into her skull.

Her polite introduction, her planned speech, her measured words all went out of her mind as her body temperature rapidly escalated. "What have you done?"

"I have done nothing. You have been touched by Talona herself. I have the means to remove your sickness, but if I administered it now, then I would only displease my Goddess. It is clear that my Lady wants to test you, and if you can prove yourself worthy, then I will heal you."

"How? How do I prove myself?"

The priest's smile broadened. "Prove yourself in combat. If you can survive the rigours of battle whilst diseased, then you will surely prove yourself worthy."

"There's no other way?"

"You have little choice," said the priest. "The disease will gradually progress to the point where you will die. Accept the trial, and you have a chance. It is unlikely that you will face a strong enemy, but the longer you take over your decision, the worse you will feel. If you need any further incentive, then I will give you my mirror shard as well as the antidote if you pass the test. That_ is_ what you came here for, isn't it?"

"Surely you don't trust him to keep his side of the bargain?" asked Valen.

It occurred to Cora that Valen probably didn't believe she was strong enough to pass the trial. She looked straight back at the priest. "I accept."

* * *

If they had believed that Talona's trial would consist of one fight, they were wrong: the priest had conveniently failed to mention that little detail before it started. Valen watched Cora undertaking her fourth fight in the cage. Such a weak enemy, and she still had not managed to kill it. Such a ridiculous, pointless farce, in the name of a goddess who was beneath contempt.

_The enemy's bleeding. It's vulnerable. Just kill it, woman!_

Cora lifted the longsword with both hands, bringing it down. The injured troll's movements were slow, too, but even then it managed to partially dodge her, just being nicked on its shoulder.

Valen's tail lashed against his legs. This was too frustrating to watch. He had warned her more than once: he had suggested that she attacked the priest directly instead of playing any more of his games. She had taken no notice of him. She was certainly paying for her foolishness now. Valen turned to the priest, and saw the look of morbid fascination on his face. "This so-called test has gone on long enough, elf. You've had your entertainment. Now it's time to put an end to it."

The priest's eyes swivelled towards him. "I can't possibly do that. What would my Goddess do if she was cheated of her trial? Besides, she has an easy opponent."

"Two things. One, she is not my friend. Two, the easiest opponent I can see around here is you. It would be a bad idea to cross me."

"Nor should you anger a priest of Talona," the elf said pettishly. "Not in her temple, while this trial continues. It might make the test go even worse for the girl."

Cora was back, suddenly. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead, and she was shivering. Deekin was casting a healing spell on her, but it was clearly failing to have as much effect as it would normally.

"How many times have I been in there now?"

"Deekin thinks four. You thinks maybe you should stop now, Boss? Remember that time you gots the runs real bad in the desert? Your face looks the same."

"At least it hasn't come to that yet," she said as she wiped a corner of her cloak over her brow. "Back into the fray," she said wearily.

Valen stepped closer, speaking quietly. "Just kill the priest. I'll help."

She looked almost tempted, but she shook her head. "The mirror's curse reversed everything. I won't do it, not while there's a chance to break the spell."

"Then I'll fight in your stead."

"I always finish wha' I start." Her voice was beginning to slur as if she was drunk, yet she still had that I'm-not-listening look on her face, when her mouth pursed and her chin jutted out. He was beginning to recognise it now.

"Good," purred the priest to Valen. "Talona did not choose _you, _ and it must irk you greatly. Did my Goddess judge that the girl was stronger than you in some way, in spite of your greater height and muscle? My Lady accepts no substitutes, and you would only be left with a dying woman if you tried."

The distraction cost Valen the chance to stop Cora. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a saw a flash of light, and he realised that she had pulled one of the dangling chains that transported her back into the fighting ring.

Valen glanced at the kobold. "I can't believe this. Why must your friend be so stubborn?"

"Boss be bravest woman Deekin knows. That why she be a heroine."

Valen snorted. He could not see a brave heroine in the room anywhere. All he could see was a wounded woman, staggering as if punch-drunk, trying and failing to block blows from a single enemy. "What use is courage, when it's accompanied by abject stupidity?" He already knew that he was angry - with the priest, about this ridiculous test, but most of all with Cora, for not listening to him yet again.

Her knees buckled, yet instead of getting straight back up, she stayed crouched on the ground, removing her helmet.

_Why? Why leave yourself more vulnerable?_

The answer came immediately as Cora bent over to vomit copiously. He saw the way she was desperately struggling to right herself, get back to her feet. The troll attacked her, unhurried - it was not as if she offered any real defence. Claws slashed over her cheek, drawing a bright line of blood, and in that moment, she looked straight back at Valen through the bars of the cage-like ring. Perhaps due to a trick of the light, her eyes no longer appeared brown, but were the colour of wine. Whether it was due to her expression or the position she was in, his mind was transported back to another time and place, where pale grey eyes gazed back at him as if pleading...but for what? For a release he could not give her? For death?

In his mind, he heard the hated voice of his master Grimash't once more.

"_On her knees, like the slave she is. Look at her, my rebellious pet. Do you still believe that you love her, in all her pathetic frailty? Or do you find the sight pleasing? Don't deny it... the demon within you delights in her torment, and is strong, unlike this weakness you have embraced. Look at her. So helpless. So desperately mortal, hanging on to the tiniest thread, when it would be easier to sink into oblivion forever. Does she cling to life for your sake, tiefling? Is your so-called love for her causing her to suffer even more? The idea amuses me so much that it's almost a pity that she's dying."_

Valen had thought it was the end, then, as Imogen lay there, her lovely face contorted into a mask of agony. He had not known that many more tortuous hours would pass before her life finally ebbed away. Just as she was on the brink of death, Grimash't brought in a cleric to heal her, but even then, Valen had felt only dread. The cleric was the follower of an evil god, and Imogen was only healed so that more torments could be inflicted on her.

"Boss! Get up, Boss!" The kobold's insufferable squawk broke into Valen's reverie. A voice that could drive anyone into a battle frenzy.

The girl was on her back, barely moving, while her attacker continued to inflict wounds in an almost leisurely manner.

_She's going to die, here and now. I should be glad of it. I'll be rid of her. But then...isn't that what Grimash't wants? For me to take pleasure in this?_

Past and present rolled into one, and Valen's saw a cleric with a cruel, satisfied expression, just as he had once before. Yet this time, he was within arm's reach.

_No bars between us._

Without further thought, Valen grabbed him around the throat. "Stop this. NOW!"

If the priest tried to answer it was impossible to understand: he made hoarse choking gasps instead of coherent speech.

_Fearful. Good. _

Valen pulled him forward, then pushed with great force, propelling the priest across the floor, where he fell down in a heap. With a laugh devoid of any mirth, Valen launched himself at his target.

* * *

It had been too close that time. Cora knew that she couldn't take any further trials and she hadn't been entirely sure she was going to survive this one. In the end, the attacker had come too close, exposing his stomach - and it was then that she felt a raw onrush of anger which summoned a strength she did not know she had left. She managed to pull her blade upright even though it felt like a lead weight. Somehow, she drove it home.

There was something wrong with her, more than exhaustion or the effects of the poison.

She laughed then. Laughed as the strange magic of the temple pulled her out of that ring, and she heard its echo in another, deeper voice. At first, she did nothing, too tired to move, looking face-up at the ceiling. It was only when she heard growling, as if a beast had been summoned, that she turned her head sideways.

No animal was in the room. The sound came from Valen, who was tirelessly beating a prone figure on the floor with his flail. Blow after blow rained down upon the...

_...priest. The priest! He has the antidote. _

A healing spell cooled her heated skin, temporarily, but it did little to relieve her advanced symptoms. _ Deekin, bless him_.

"Deekin not gots any more spells left. Sorry."

"Deekin." Her tone of voice was hushed, paper-dry, forcing the kobold to put his face closer so that he could hear her. "Need the antidote...the priest has it."

"Priest must be completely dead by now. Deekin scared to go too near Goatman, but Deekin tries..." For a change, Deekin was speaking quietly too.

He must have heard them nonetheless, for Valen turned on his heels. Cora immediately noticed his eyes: no longer blue, but an incandescent red. Blood spattered his face, bright rivulets coursed down his leaf-hued armour. His breastplate rose and fell as he took deep, uneven breaths. He stared down at her with a feral gaze, and she was not sure whether he even recognised her at all. If she reached for her sword, it might provoke him: if she did not, she would have no chance of survival at all if he turned on her. She remained as still as if she was playing dead, the only sound in the room being his breathing and her heartbeat thundering in her own ears.


	10. Chapter 10 Recovery

_A/N - just wanted to give a quick word of thanks to the people who left anonymous reviews recently.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Recovery**

The stalemate abruptly ended as Valen stalked away, his tail whipping the air in his wake.

As the temple door slammed shut, Deekin ran towards the corpse, proceeding with the grisly task of searching the pile of broken bone and pulverised flesh now barely recognisable as an elf's body.

"You thinks this is the antidote, Boss? Good thing it in metal flask."

"Please -"

The bottle wasn't labelled, but Cora had to take the risk of assuming it contained the antidote she so desperately needed. Her hands were trembling: her grip strength was so poor that she couldn't even remove the stopper. "Deeks...could you help me with this?"

The kobold opened the bottle without any difficulty, before handing it back to her.

_Pathetic. Some Saviour I'm turning out to be._ The liquid was so foul-tasting she nearly gagged, but she forced herself to swallow. Gradually, her stomach calmed, her skin cooled and her thoughts became clearer.

She pulled herself up to a sitting position. "Did you find the mirror piece? I'm praying that Valen hasn't shattered it into a thousand splinters."

"Nope, but Deekin finds key on the dead man alongside antidote. Maybe mirror be locked away?"

"We've got to look," she said as she got to her feet - before sinking back down again. She still felt weak at the knees.

"Could you check out the rooms at the side, see if the key fits one of them?" While the kobold scurried away, Cora reached a shaking hand into her pack, locating a small jar of salve which had some of the same active ingredients as a healing potion. As she waited for Deekin, she rubbed the pungent-smelling cream into the various cuts and scratches the troll had inflicted upon her. It stung as badly as if she had just whipped herself with nettles, but the discomfort was worthwhile. Besides lessening the risk of infection, the scarring would be reduced if she treated the wounds quickly.

Deekin's investigations unearthed the mirror fragment in a chest in the priest's bedroom, and once Cora felt stronger, she made her way to the same room. She felt uncomfortable about sleeping in the bed of the man whom one of her party had beaten to death, even though he had been the agent of her own suffering. Still, a real bed would help her recuperate more easily than a hard floor, and she was in no fit state to go outside and participate in any more fights. In the end she just took off her breastplate and boots, lying down on top of the bed without undressing any further.

"Lock the door, and you'll be able to get some sleep too." Deekin did as she asked, then curled up at the opposite end of the bed.

Cora wondered where Valen had gone, and what state he would be in when he came back. _If _he came back at all. Her speculations were short-lived, however, for sleep quickly claimed her exhausted body.

* * *

Cora was as well-rested as she was going to be: if there was a still a faint creeping tiredness deep within her, she had a feeling that it wasn't going to improve anytime soon. Valen had not returned, and she could not be sure whether he had come back to himself either. She wondered whether he had been in the grip of a barbarian's rage earlier, but she quickly discarded the idea. She had watched barbarians fighting before, and if their approach to battle was savage, none of them ever had the terrifying otherness she had seen in Valen's burning eyes.

Before she left the temple, Cora passed the remains of the priest, now beginning to exude a vile, sweetish scent. She turned her face away, then forced herself to look back at him. She was not a squeamish person, but she felt a nagging sense of unease. She knew that the debased priest would have felt no such guilt about her own passing, but she could not shake the feeling that it would be wrong to leave without marking his death in some ritual manner.

Walking back to the priest's bedroom, she pulled the stained linen cover from his bed, bringing it out so that she could cover the cleric's body. She wondered whether she should offer up a prayer, but to whom? She could not - would not - pray to Talona. Feeling like a fraud, she offered a brief prayer to Aerdrie Faenya, asking her to forgive her former servant if he wished to return to her. With that small gesture completed, she left the building without looking back.

As soon as Cora walked out onto the street, she saw two more bodies that had met a similar fate to the Avariel priest. Both were drow, judging from the glimpses of dark skin and blood-matted white hair amidst the carnage. Judging from their condition, Valen had been so consumed by intemperate fury that he continued to batter them long after death.

_He spared me, though. Did he recognise an ally, even an unwelcome one? Or was it pure chance that he left me alone? _

Coming to a halt, she spoke to Deekin. "We should look for Valen, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to cast a stealth spell on both of us, just in case." Her caution was double-edged: not only were they without a strong warrior in case of another ambush, but she could not feel entirely sure of his condition even if they found him.

The town was eerily silent as they made their rounds. A handful of Avariel walked with a listless air through the dank streets, but there was no sign of any more drow, and Valen was nowhere to be seen. After checking all the main thoroughfares, Cora decided that enough time had been wasted on looking for him. With four mirror shards in her possession, she might be best off simply going straight to the castle and presenting them to the court jester.

* * *

Cora walked back into the castle, cutting straight across the abandoned halls to reach the entrance to the Throne Room. As she neared the doorway, she heard footsteps coming from the side passage. She whirled around, only to see Valen walking around the corner, as cool as if nothing untoward had happened.

"You're well," he said. He had cleaned his face and armour up: his eyes were blue once more. _ No longer fire, but ice. _

"You're back," she replied. _In more than one sense. _A curious mix of relief and anger warred within her. Feeling unable to express her conflicted feelings in any coherent way, she walked past him in silence, pushing the carved doorway open.

She might have known that Sabal would get there first: the drow was waiting for them beside Elicid the jester. Still, there were no allies in tow this time, and Cora felt a boost in her confidence as she walked across the huge room, flanked by Valen on her left, Deekin on her right. Perhaps they had managed to defeat all of her minions during the ambushes.

"Four out of five," said Cora without preamble. "We did all the legwork." She eyed the jester. "It's only fair that we get the mirror once it is restored."

"Fairness aside," said Elicid, "I cannot force Sabal to give up her only piece of mirror. You will have to negotiate with one another."

"Negotiate? I will settle this with battle," sneered Sabal. "The Red Sisters will taste your blood."

"I doubt it would taste very good," said Cora. "I've only just recovered from a disgusting disease. Look, you're on your own right now. Why not stop this stupid posturing and simply talk to us?"

"Think about your next move carefully, drow," said Valen. "It may be the last one you make."

"You will bleed just as easily as her!"

Elicid held up a hand. "You will be unable to battle here unless I remove the spell of protection from this room. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Only if I have no other choice," said Cora.

"Coward's words. You will only get my shard over my dead body, but it is far more likely that I will be robbing your corpse."

Elicid looked from Sabal to Cora. "I see there is little chance of a civilised solution. There is one last thing you need to know before you begin. The pillars in this room can be activated to release their magic, using the mirror fragments."

"Good," said Cora, knowing that her party not only had the advantage in numbers, but also held four shards for Sabal's one.

Sabal's cocksure expression melted away. "Wait...I need more time to prepare reinforcements."

"You don't seem so eager now, drow. Do you finally realise you are overmatched?" said Valen.

"We cannot always get the chance to pick the time and place of our confrontations," said Elicid. As he lifted his hand to remove the wards, Deekin began to sing the Doom Song, but an even more shrill sound rang out above it. Sabal was blowing a whistle, and as she did, another small party of drow burst through the double doors.

Cora dashed for the nearest pillar. Fast though she was, Sabal still managed to overtake her just at the last moment, holding her own shard in front of her. Cutting her losses as the pillar activated, Cora ran past her towards the next pillar, straight in the path of the group of advancing drow.

"Cover me!" she cried, hoping Deekin would at least aim his bolts in the right direction. Instead it was Valen who ran to her side, a blur of green armour. Cora was still taking some blows nonetheless, and she knew she had scant time to find a shard. Pulling her pack from her back, she leaned the bag against the pillar for support, and was relieved when the pillar darkened immediately. The shards were effective through leather and cloth.

She had not known in advance what kind of magic would be released from the pillar, but she felt herself growing taller, her skin desensitising, and she looked down at the massive arms of a golem instead of her own body. With plodding steps, she lumbered to the last pillar in the row, only to find that she could not activate the pillar whilst in that condition. Turning away with an metallic-sounding groan of frustration, she swung slow yet powerful punches at a the drow fighters close by, knocking them backwards with ease.

Going in for one last blow, she felt her perspective shift again, shrinking down as her skin softened. She was now gripping Enserric, and her punch became a slash. After the last drow fell, she activated the pillar and glanced across the room. To her dismay, Sabal was somehow activating another pillar - could she use the same shard twice after all? Cora rushed diagonally across the room to reach the pillar to Sabal's left. Turning around, she saw lines of dull metal forming on the floor, enclosing the space where Valen was battling a priestess and a cleric.

"Valen, to me - now!"

He leapt towards Cora just as a cage began to rise up from the floor. Valen's opponents were too preoccupied with spellcasting to react similarly, and they were left trapped inside as a debilitating spell activated within. Deekin stood outside the cage, hastening their deaths with crossbow bolts, and now there was only Sabal left to defeat. Hatred burned in the drow's eyes as Cora and Valen rounded on her: it was clear the arrogant woman would prefer to die rather than give up her shard.

This time, all of Sabal's spells were exhausted: she could not stop time and transport herself to a safer place. All she could do was to defend herself whilst outnumbered, and soon enough she slid down to the tiles. Valen aimed a kick at her hand which sent her flail sliding across the floor, leaving her undefended. As she lay dying, Sabal gazed at Cora steadily before gasping out a few words. "If not me, then someone else will kill you...kitrye kyuvr errdegahr klu'chud." She gave one last, rattling cough, then her body stilled and she said no more.

"I don't understand - what did she say, some kind of curse?"

"Half-breed demon spawn," Valen said, giving her a curious glance.

_She must have meant him, _Cora thought, before taking the fifth mirror shard from the drow's prone body.

It was time to present their prize to the jester, who emerged from his hiding-place behind the throne.

Unhurt as he was by the battle which had just taken place, Elicid's face was filled with sorrow. "It is a pity that it came to this. In a way, I hope that the Queen will leave the bloodstains here. They will serve as a reminder of the traps we can fall into. My people were fortunate to survive this."

"Most of them," said Cora.

Elicid nodded, and Cora knew that he understood.

He reached under the throne, before bringing out an ornate silver frame. "Place all the shards on the throne and then hold the frame out for me. The mirror shall be yours after this, and once it is mended, I will no longer remember what its purpose is. I suspect that everything will change rapidly around us, and you may not be able to witness my transformation."

"What will happen to you, Elicid?" asked Cora.

"I will be a giggling, dancing fool, just as I was before the curse, devoid of rational thought, my only function in life to provoke laughter. It is only a small price, compared with the suffering of an entire town." There was a hint of apprehension in his eyes which belied his calm words.

"You are brave, little man," said Valen solemnly. "I hope your sacrifice is not forgotten when the kingdom is restored."

_So he can show kindness and sympathy after all._ Cora found the notion hard to square with the hard, suspicious attitude which he so often aimed at her, less still with the unbridled rage she had witnessed earlier. Perhaps she was seeing yet another facet of him, one which rarely surfaced. "I agree with Valen," she said to the jester. "May you only know gentleness and comfort in your life, from now on."

"Deekin hopes the Queen gives you plenty of cake."

"Thank you, said Elicid, attempting a smile even though his eyes glittered with unshed tears. "The Avariel are in debt to you, and if you ever visit the Lost Peaks, be assured that our Queen will not be as callous or indifferent as she appeared here. I am sure that she would extend her welcome to you all."

He placed all the pieces in order, one by one, before uttering an incantation. The jagged glass edges fused like molten metal before the mirror flared with an unbearable brightness. As her vision cleared, Cora found herself gripping the frame so tightly that her knuckles were white. She and her two companions were now standing in a desolate, barren landscape. Elicid had disappeared without trace and all signs of the town were eliminated.

_No, not quite all, _thought Cora_. _Six massive stalagmites reared up nearby, distorted reminders of the grand pillars of the Throne Room.

* * *

Valen sat in the middle of Cavallas's boat, shrouded in a silence so enveloping it was almost tangible. Perhaps it was just as well: he had no great desire to face any probing questions from the kobold or Cora. Deekin was thankfully silent, the only sound from his corner being the repetitive scrape of a quill upon parchment. The girl was seated to the right of Valen, but she might as well have been a league away. She was leaning forward, her face cradled in her gauntleted hands: she appeared entirely wrapped up in her thoughts.

Valen was thankful that he did not need to give her any cautionary words this time around, for he had concerns enough of his own.

_How long?_

How long since he had felt such a loss of control? He cast his mind back to their first battle with the Valsharess, a few months ago. When the demonic rage simmered within his veins, he had bent it to his will, using it to assume charge of the scattered, panicking troops through intimidation and a little measured violence. Never once had he lost sight of his human side completely. He came close, a few times - but nothing like his unexpected shift back in the Temple of Talona. Was he backsliding, losing what he had spent years struggling to regain? He wondered if the Seer had foreseen such a lapse, whether she suspected there would be more to come. Was that the real reason why she wanted somebody else to assume leadership, and was willing to stake all her hopes on a vision?

_Let the violent visions and words pass through your mind, like the clouds you have seen in the surface world. Do not hold on to them. Breathe deep, good Valen: breathe, and let them go. _

The Seer's advice had often served him well, in the long struggle back to regaining his humanity. It failed him today - or rather he had forgotten to take a step back, to look at the anger with any sense of detachment. It was a bitter irony that the Seer had long told him that his emotions could heal as well as harm, that he should not be afraid to feel fellowship or even love if the chance ever occurred. The memory of his lost love had triggered only uncontrollable hatred within him today. He had to be more careful, more vigilant: perhaps he had been growing too complacent of late.

He wondered what instinct had stopped him from killing Cora. Even while his taint was fully under his control, he had been seething with resentment towards her. In spite of that, that he had spared her while he was in the full grip of bloodlust, when she had been so obviously vulnerable. It was no use thinking that the Seer would have been disappointed to see her hopes dashed, however unrealistic they were. Nor could he explain it away by telling himself Cora had not yet proven herself to be a traitor to their cause. Such thoughts were rational, and they would not have come to mind whilst he was overwhelmed with demonic fury. He could only recall the scene within the temple in brief flashes, for such episodes were marked by fragmentary recollections. He could expect more memories to return later, but that did not help him now; not while he was struggling to make sense of it all.

Cora glanced back at him. "Is something wrong?" Sat as she was on the edge of her seat, her expression belied a faint wariness.

"Nothing's amiss."

"It's just that you took some deep breaths, and I wondered - that is, I was concerned about..." Her voice trailed off. "I thought you might be...unwell."

He could guess what she meant, and it had nothing to do with any physical affliction. No doubt she had checked the colour of his eyes, too. "I wasn't even aware that my breathing had changed. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

He hesitated. He didn't want to spill his guts to someone he barely knew. He didn't even want to tell the Seer, not this time around.

She looked away from him. "Forget about it - I know what you're going to say. It's none of my business."

He sat in silence for a few heartbeats, considering. He wanted to take his mind away from his earlier lapse, if only for a short while. He also needed to impress upon the girl's mind just how important the survival of the rebels was to him. Making a decision, he began to tell her about the first military engagement with the Valsharess.


	11. Chapter 11 Family

**Chapter 11 - Family**

Madame Elista's dreams were uneasy, for she saw the one whom she had once invited into her life without a second thought. At the time she had been considerably younger and in love with her own powers. Now the folly of her youth was long gone, and a night visitation always induced dread. It was not that the intruder into her dream world was terrifying to look upon. In fact he was pleasing to behold, with his finely sculpted features and his lustrous eyes, but she could never be certain that it was his real form.

"I thought of you the other day," he said. "You must be up to something."

She wasn't going to admit to anything - not if he hadn't guessed. "You must miss my company," she said sarcastically.

"I will have it soon enough, frail mortal. How many years do you have left - or is it a mere matter of months?"

"How should I know?" she answered. "The hour of my death is one aspect of the Sight which is entirely closed off to me."

"Two years, possibly three at the most, I imagine," he said, offering a smile which would have made him look all the more handsome if it had not been suffused with an undertone of cruelty. "Quite possibly much less, if you have a sudden shock. Your heart flutters like a caged bird whenever you see me, and it cannot be good for your health."

"If you induced my death deliberately, that would be cheating. Besides, you overestimate the effect you have on me," she said, determined not to show her fear.

"Nice try, as always. Believe it or not, there is a part of me which regrets your onward march to death. You were a great beauty once...not that one could tell, to look upon your sleeping form now."

"I am sure it must be within your power to grant me my youth again."

"It _is _within my power, but what do I stand to gain?"

She dropped her voice to a low purr. "Just think how much more entertaining my company might be, if I was wrapped up within a more pleasing form." It galled her to lower herself like a common harlot, but there were worse things than trading her body. Much worse. He would be gone after tonight, at least for a while.

"No. I suspect you're just trying to buy time, and that you're far more interested in regaining your health than your looks. Maybe I will transform you one day, but at a time when it suits me. After all, we have rules to abide by."

"Do we?" A thought occurred to her, a chink of light in the surrounding gloom. "It occurs to me that one of the requests I made when I first negotiated with you has never been granted. Do you remember what I asked for, all those years ago?"

"I remember _everything._" His voice shed all of its playfulness, becoming as hard and unyielding as stone. "Say it, if you will. Let's see whether my memory agrees with yours."

"I asked to find my missing father."

"Ah, yes. A relatively minor request. Almost an afterthought."

Her voice shook slightly, even though she knew that she temporarily had the upper hand. "It doesn't matter whether it was top of my list or not. What counts is that one of my requests was not honoured."

"An unfortunate oversight."

"Yes." she said. "You reneged on our deal." _I have him, at last! He can't deny this. _

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "If I have been remiss, so have you. You failed to stipulate any time frame to find him within, and he may yet be alive."

"Do you really believe that? It's obvious that he's dead by now." She felt a thrill of triumph at the thought, even though she had once longed to find him. She could not mourn for someone who had disappeared without trace, not after so many years.

"You can offer me no proof of his death."

"It doesn't matter, since you cannot prove that he is living, either" she countered.

"Hmm. I should attempt to seek him out, to settle the question once and for all."

She felt a vague sense of foreboding, but logically she knew that her father could not possibly be alive, even though her past divinations on the matter had proved inconclusive. "Try as you might, you know that he could not have outlived his aged daughter. I feel no desire to prolong this conversation and I am not bound to talk with you now."

With an effort, Madame Elista brought her mind back to her room, her small bed; her thin legs jerked involuntarily before she opened clouded eyes to the grey light of dawn. Slowly, she sat up, mindful of the arthritic ache in her neck. She looked down at her coverlet, adorned with the fine embroidery that her gnarled fingers could no longer fashion, and she let out a forlorn sigh.

He did not come to her often, and only rarely had she seen a hint of what lay behind the calm, measured surface, but the memory was enough to make her feel such a great dread that she feared it would kill her prematurely. Soon, she would get up, and make herself a decoction which would calm her irregular heartbeat. After that, she would attempt to find out where her familiar was and try to see through his eyes. Something within her, whether presentiment or caution, told her that it was probably just as well to have more than one plan in reserve.

0-0-0

Cora awoke from a fitful dream where all of the most vivid sights, scents and sounds from the previous day were jumbled together in a disturbing collage. She saw a dying drow's angry face and the burning eyes of an enraged tiefling, along with the gory remains of a priest, in a temple which smelled not of incense but of vomit, fear-sweat and decomposing flesh. The dream made her feel jittery, but it wasn't unusual that she had such unwelcome reminders of her work. She knew that if she ever became immune to revulsion or regret, then that was the stage where she would become a hardened, remorseless killer, nothing more. It was better by far to suffer the occasional unwholesome dream.

It probably didn't help that she had fallen asleep on her back. If she stayed in that position for too long, sometimes the small protrusion sticking out from the base of her spine would chafe against the bedding. Even though the bed was relatively soft compared with her bedroll, the spot was itching now, and she twisted around to give it a scratch. She took extra care not to scratch too hard, for her black nails had grown back into points and needed filing down once more.

Valen's long and sinuous tail came to her mind suddenly.

_Like there's any resemblance. This little bump may not be the norm, but it doesn't make it into a tail by any means. Even if my hands are strange-looking and there are a few odd markings on my legs, none of that makes me into - what did Sabal say? Half-breed demon spawn? _

She reminded herself that the comment was meant for Valen. It had to be. The drow hadn't even seen her more unusual features, after all.

She sat up, and noticed that the black cat she'd seen last night had sneaked into her room and was now blatantly sitting up on her dressing table as if it belonged there. She had encountered the creature hanging around in the shadows close to her doorway: she would have overlooked it altogether had it not brushed its sleek body against her boots, purring loudly. She had not thought that such a mundane domestic pet would be found in the notorious Underdark, but perhaps the drow used them to deal with rats - not that she had noticed any here yet, but there were a few in Undermountain. The creature had been surprisingly friendly. In Drogan's Academy, her colleagues had given her the nickname of 'the Anti-Ranger' because of her incompetence at handling animals. Dogs reacted to her presence with either aggression or cowering, and her past attempts to ride horses inevitably ended with her backside in the dirt and a spooked horse bolting away. She wondered whether cats were the exception to the rule.

Amusingly, the feline appeared to be surveying itself in the Mirror of All-Seeing, which she had propped up against the dressing-table mirror shortly before retiring to her bed.

"Admiring yourself? You're a handsome fellow, I'll give you that -" She broke off abruptly, startled. Just for a second, she saw - or thought she saw - something other than the reflection of green eyes or sooty fur on the mirror's surface. A face, wizened and creased by lines, surrounded by a lace bonnet.

An involuntary shudder ran down her spine. Annoyed at being so easily spooked, she reminded herself that she had just woken up from a nightmare and had barely rubbed the sleep from her eyes yet. It must have been a trick of the light, brought on by the light crystal glowing softly in the room, and her own over-active imagination.

_Then again, even if I was imagining what I saw just now, it is supposed to be a mirror of all-seeing... what might I see, if I tried?_

The cat jumped down to the floor with a soft thud as Cora sat down by the dressing table. She picked up the mirror in order to study it more closely. Could anyone use it, or would she need to have some kind of second sight? She had not thought to ask Elicid about how to use it when she had the opportunity. Would she need some kind of incantation, like the one he had used to make the shards whole once more? She had a fairly sketchy knowledge of magic, and had no idea whether she needed to cast some kind of spell to activate its power. What would she wish to know, if she had such a power to see anything?

She wondered whether her friend Hanna had given birth by now. Staring into the mirror intently, she posed the question in her mind and waited for something to happen. All she could see was her own face: her usual summer tan was fading to a more wan, sallow look. Realising her concentration was slipping, she tried again, but nothing changed. She tried turning her attention to her own family, wondering how they were faring, yet the mirror still refused to offer any other image than her reflection. She felt a faint sense of disappointment.

_If I could only make this mirror work, I might learn what my real parents look like._

It had been a while since she had thought of them - there was no point in trying to follow a trail when she did not even know where the beginning was. She thought of them now, though, and as she did, she felt the usual mix of intense curiosity, longing and an old, bitter anger.

She wasn't trying to look at the mirror now, but a shifting pattern caught the edge of her vision, drawing her attention back to it. She nearly dropped the mirror when she saw a grey, swirling mist where her reflection had been only moments before. As the mist began to clear, a scene formed before her eyes, becoming as clear as if she were peering through a small windowpane.

A middle-aged human female sat in a rocking-chair outside a modest-looking cottage. Her eyes were brown just like her own, but there the resemblance ended, for the woman's long hair was straight, the colour of toffee save for a scattering of silver hairs. A lad came out of the house, somewhere in the awkward transitional stage between child and adult, and she gave him a few words of caution or instruction before sending him on his way with a good-humoured smile. In his stead, a wiry man with iron-grey hair followed shortly afterwards.

_Father? _

The mist within the mirror formed, obscuring her viewas if confirming her doubts before clearing once more. The next scene was of a grey stone building with forbidding architecture, not least because of the tiny barred windows and the high walls surrounding its grounds. She saw a uniformed man patrolling the scene, his features obscured by a helmet. She wondered if the guard was her natural father, but as if in answer, the focus swerved away from him, towards a large patch of disturbed earth. Great uneven clods of clay soil lay on its surface as if it had been dug over recently for cultivation... or for burial. As if to confirm the latter thought, she could see the grim outline of an executioner's block in the background.

Something twisted within Cora's insides and she forced herself to put down the mirror, placing it face downwards. This was no good for her, dwelling on her origins. If the mirror spoke truth and her real father was dead, she still had no idea who he was - or what manner of man he was, save that his life had come to an inglorious end.

The thought dismayed her, even though she had always harboured doubts about his character. She recalled an intensely awkward conversation with her father - her adoptive father - where she had finally persuaded him to give her some more information on her origins. After much wrangling, he had told her one scrap of hearsay he had gleaned from the midwife - that the father was unknown to the mother, and that he had apparently 'forced his unwanted attentions upon her'. Her adoptive father could not - or would not - give her any more information. He did not even know her natural mother's first name.

Instinctively, she reached for the mirror again, then hesitated. What was the use of spying on someone else's life, when all it would do would lead to further fruitless speculation... and further hurt? Wanting to know about her origins was a perennial unsatisfied hunger, a deep ache: but how much could she really learn from this? If the vision within the looking-glass was to be believed, she now knew what her mother looked like, what kind of home she had. Whatever else she learned, she doubted she could ever find out about the thoughts and feelings which had caused her mother to give her up. As it was, she felt like a spy on a life she had been banished from.

No, she couldn't afford to dwell on such matters at a time like this - it would only be self-indulgent at best, morbid at worst. Her ancestry was the least of her worries right now, and she should be using the mirror in ways which might yet save them all, such as spying on the Valsharess. _That _was her real priority.

She reached for the mirror once more - and her hand stilled just as she was about to flip it around. Was it worth risking a rebound like the one Queen Shaori had brought upon herself? Halaster had cursed the Queen and her people via the mirror, but the Valsharess had been wily enough to entrap even Halaster for a short while. She needed to seek advice from someone who was well-used to seeing into other realms. Placing the mirror into her pack without looking at it any more, she decided that it was time to pay the Seer a visit.

0-0-0

Valen was dining with the Seer in her chambers above the temple. Such an invitation was considered an honour among her followers. Valen could not help but wonder if it was a sop to his damaged pride, but he attended nonetheless. He might as well tell her about the trip to Shaori Fell and eat at the same time.

"You helped an entire people, Valen, and brought back an artefact of great value. That's hardly 'nothing'."

Valen shifted in his chair. "It is a pity they couldn't stick around to join with us. What the true value of the mirror is, we will have to see. If it is so powerful, then it strikes me that it could bring danger, as well as opportunity. It was hardly beneficial to the Avariel."

"You could well be right, my friend. I'm hoping that Cora will bring me the mirror, so that I may assess it more clearly. Speaking of Cora, I notice that you hardly mentioned her."

"What is there to say? I've met mules on the surface who were less stubborn than she."

She gave him a faint smile. "There is common ground, then?"

He laughed. "You know that I will never admit to that, Seer. Still, I suppose that her fighting skills are well-honed for her age."

"I suspect that is the highest of compliments, coming from you," she said, smiling.

Valen raised an eyebrow at her. "I hadn't quite finished. Yes, she fights well enough, but she tires more easily than I would expect. Even when she was cured from her poisoning in the Temple of Talona, she still seemed to lack stamina."

The Seer frowned. "Poisoned, you say? You did not mention that before."

He realised that he had unwittingly taken the conversation in a direction he most definitely did not want to go. Avoiding her eyes, he affected a shrug. "It's hardly rare in the Underdark. She's fine now."

When Valen looked up again, he noticed a change in the Seer's eyes, an unfocusing even while she regarded him. From past experience, he knew she often wore a similar expression immediately before asking a probing question. Having a mentor who was capable of not just looking at him, but somehow_ within_ was more than a little discomfiting at times.

"Valen, there is something else, isn't there?"

He was glad that his mouth was full at that moment: he could chew slowly, using that as an excuse not to answer her question immediately. Half of him wanted to speak to her about the incident in the Temple whilst the other half railed against it.

_Why should I tell her?_

_Because it's an unburdening. She already knows that something is wrong, and It will be a relief to just get it over with and tell her._

_She has no right to know every minuscule detail of my thoughts and feelings. _

_But then... what if it happens again? What if I become a danger to her? Shouldn't she be forewarned?_

"You are not obliged to tell me everything, Valen. Only do so if you want to," she said in a gentle tone of voice.

_She has probably read my mind anyway, and is just waiting for me to confess._

Valen swallowed the by-now tasteless sliver of chewed meat. Still unsure of exactly how much he wanted to admit, he opened his mouth, only to hear the creak of the door opening behind them. Turning around, he saw one of the drow guards, with Cora standing behind him.

"Mother Seer, I'm sorry to interrupt but you wished for me to tell you if the Saviour arrived..."

"That's fine, said the Seer. She smiled at Cora. "Have you eaten? We have enough for three here."

Cora looked uncertain, glancing from Valen to the Seer. "If it's not a bad time..."

"Of course not," said the Seer. "Please, sit down and make yourself at home."

Valen felt simultaneously relieved that he wouldn't have to say anything, and irritated by the untimely interruption. If he was reluctant to admit his loss of self-control to the Seer, then he had even less desire that she learned the news from Cora.

As Cora pulled up a chair to the table, the Seer spoke to Valen. "I believe you were about to tell me something... but if you're not comfortable, perhaps we could speak another time...?"

"It's not a matter of comfort or discomfort," he said quickly. "Let's just forget it."

The Seer gave him another searching glance before turning her attention to Cora.

"I know we have monotonous fare compared with the food on the surface, but it is the best we have," said the Seer.

"No, it's fine, honestly," said Cora, as she picked at a strip of rothe meat.

"Valen was telling me about your encounter with the Avariel, just before you came in."

Valen readied himself for a blurted-out retelling of the events in the temple of Talona, but it did not come. Cora only said "I see," before helping herself to more food. She did not seem entirely at ease either, he thought.

"I must confess to some curiosity about the artefact you were gifted with by the Avariel. Do you think it might be possible for me to have a look at it sometime?"

"It's right here with me - I wanted to show it to you." Cora reached down to the bag she'd deposited by her ankles, before bringing out the mirror, carefully unwrapping the cloth around it. Valen noticed that she averted her eyes as the mirror's surface was unveiled.

The Seer, by comparison did not look away. Instead, a sigh escaped from her lips. "This is powerful indeed, Cora. Its fabric is not just the glass and metal it appears to be made from. Magic itself is fused with it." There was a note of longing in her voice.

"It both fascinates me and gives me the creeps," admitted Cora.

"I can fully understand why. I fear it would be too easy to be seduced by its potential. Perhaps we could talk more easily whilst its face is turned away from us."

"That's a good idea," said Cora, turning it over so that only the backing was visible.

"Tell me, Cora, did you see anything strange within its reflection before you came here?"

Valen observed that the Seer had the same expression on her face that she normally reserved for him, whenever she was trying to dig for information. The notion faintly amused him. He wondered whether Cora would withstand the Seer's gentle yet effective style of questioning any more easily than he normally did.

"I... did see something," she said. She chewed absently on her lower lip before saying any more. "Just as an experiment, I tried to find out how a pregnant friend of mine was faring, whether she'd given birth yet. Nothing happened. Then I thought about my parents - my real parents. You see, I was adopted while I was just a baby, far too young to remember them. I didn't know their names or have any idea what they looked like. Yet I thought about them whilst sitting in front of the mirror - and suddenly I was able to see something other than my own reflection. Once the mirror changed, the scenes were surprisingly clear."

"Emotion," said the Seer. "Perhaps the mirror requires some form of strong feeling to power it, be it longing, sadness, anger... but do go on. You were able to see your natural parents at last?"

"Only my mother, if it really was her. There was a man with her, but when I wondered if it was my father, the scene changed. I saw a building that must have been a prison, but the scene was outside in the yard. I saw an executioner's block and what might have been a mass grave. I suppose that was the mirror's way of telling me what became of him."

"I'm so sorry," said the drow priestess.

"Don't be. He was a stranger to me, and I doubt he was a good man. I was lucky enough to grow up with a family who treated me as their own. I just wish, sometimes..." she stopped speaking, and gave an awkward shrug. "Never mind. My past doesn't help you with your predicament at all."

"Don't feel guilty that this doesn't relate to our immediate situation. It's perfectly understandable that you would wish to know where you came from. You must feel that you cannot truly know yourself, without this."

Cora nodded slowly, and Valen noticed that her dark eyes shone more brightly than normal. This was not his concern, yet he felt oddly reluctant to extricate himself from the conversation between the two women. He stayed in his chair, saying nothing.

"I kept wondering what else I might be able to find out," Cora said. "About them...about others, too. I know it has no relevance to our current situation, though. It's hard to resist the temptation to keep taking one more look. As if I could lose myself in there."

"I feel the same way, even sitting here with the mirror within the reach of my hands," said the Seer. "I am used to visions, and looking into other realms, yet even so I feel it would be wise to treat such an item with a cautious respect. The mirror exerts a pull, just as the moon does towards moths, but there is always the risk of flying towards the wrong kind of light and being burned to a crisp instead. The question remains, what will you do with it?"

"I wouldn't mind some advice about that," said Cora. "I don't feel entirely comfortable about using it - I'll be the first to admit that I haven't a clue what I'm doing."

Valen didn't think she was asking for his opinion, but he offered it anyway. "It occurs to me that this could be a bargaining tool with one of the Valsharess's allies, if we wish to win them over to our side. There are risks attached, though. If this mirror is so powerful, we need to be sure they won't lie just to get their hands on it, then use it against us."

"It's always about trust, isn't it?" Cora said.

"Here, it needs to be."

"I know that," she said, looking away from him. Her next words were said almost under her breath. "You've certainly told me enough times."

It appeared that the Seer noticed the undercurrent between them, for she looked from Cora to Valen and back again; yet she spoke only of the mirror. "Trustworthy or not, the person who owns this artefact will have tremendous power in comparison with other beings in the Underdark. That too could bring danger to our door. We have a more pressing need to concentrate on any immediate implications, though."

"Seer, could you use the mirror?" asked Cora.

"Now?" The Seer's long fingers twitched as if she longed to pick up the looking-glass. "Perhaps I should seek guidance first."

"No...I meant, did you want to keep it?"

"You... would give this to me?" The Seer blinked at Cora. That is most generous of you, when you have already been placed in a position where you have no choice but to help us. Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's yours, just as long as you can make use of it."

"I'm sure that I can, although I will not attempt to scry with it immediately. Such power could corrupt, ultimately, so I would prefer to reserve it for those occasions when I feel that it is most needed. Thank you again, Cora... thank you so much." Her smile was warm and genuine.

Watching the exchange between them, Valen recognised that Cora was rising even further in the Seer's estimation, and he felt the familiar, disheartening sense that his favoured place among the drow rebels - his sense of belonging - was being eroded by her. Gazing at the young fighter, he tried to think of ulterior motives she might have for her gift. It was a way to win the Seer's trust, perhaps - but then she had that even before she arrived here. The mirror could be treacherous as well as powerful, but Cora had been honest enough about her own wariness. Lastly it occurred to him that it could have been a simple, untainted act of generosity, nothing more - and he realised that he did not know whether he wanted it to be true or not.

A sudden commotion outside roused Valen from his thoughts, and his first thought was to protect the Seer.

As he reached for Devil's Bane, Cora unsheathed her own sword, the one that glowed a hellish blood-red due to some strange enchantment. "Trouble?"

"It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to get in here," he said.

"We cannot assume too much yet," said the Seer, only the faintest frown betraying any apprehension on her part.

The Seer did not draw out any weapon - she had some protective spells, but she always claimed that she had long ago forgotten any prowess with the sword or bow. She freely admitted that she would be useless against any assailants of the calibre that were normally sent to kill her. Valen knew she trusted in her faith alone, and while she had effected some miraculous changes of heart from her prospective assassins over the years, including himself, he feared that one day someone would be unswayed by her, that their weapon would be unerring in its aim and she would not even be able to buy time by blocking them.

The door opened and Valen readied himself for attack, but it was only the door guard, who started to speak in rapid Drow.

"Speak Common for our guest, please," said the Seer.

"My apologies, Mother Seer. A male was found sneaking around our perimeter gates. He is from one of the slave - I mean surfacer - races." The guard, a convert to the worship of Eilistraee, had not quite dropped all of his old ways of thinking yet.

"Did he say who he was?"

"Not yet, but he asked whether Cora was here."

"Me?" She looked surprised.

"We are holding him downstairs, if you would like to see who it is," said the guard.

"The guards thought it was wise to bring a potential spy into the temple, so close to the Seer?" said Valen.

"I - we thought - since he mentioned the Daxunyrr by name... I apologise if we were in error, General Shadowbreath." The guard shot Valen one last nervous glance before leading Cora downstairs.

Valen waited by the door as Cora left the room. After she turned the corner of the spiral staircase, he overheard a belligerent voice calling out to her.

"Oi, Cora! 'Bout time too! You gonna tell these bleedin' guards to stop manhandling me, or what?"


	12. Chapter 12 Almost Human

**Chapter 12 - Almost Human**

The fuss over the halfling's unexpected arrival had delayed the group longer than Valen would have liked, but at long last they had left the rebel camp, swelled to a party of four. At least Tomi was unlikely to hamper their efforts by being unable to see. Like Cora, he had some ability to see in the dark, gained while training as a Shadowdancer.

_Pity that his stealth skills are cancelled out by his incessant chatter, _thought Valen_. _The halfling had been talking continuously since leaving Lith My'athar, and now that they were nearing their destination he showed no sign of stopping. He seemed particularly curious about the artefact they had found on their last quest, and was cross-questioning Cora about it..

"So, you found this mirror that you can look at anything with? Do you think the Seer would let me take a gander at it?"

"I should imagine it would have all kinds of possibilities, if you only knew what you were doing with it - but why are you so interested?" asked Cora.

"I had to clean my armour earlier, because of the way I arrived here. I just want to make sure I've got all the stains off."

"Wouldn't any old mirror do the job_?" _

"No..." The halfling's voice took on a shifty tone. "The thing is, there's something else I need to know. When we get back to Waterdeep, we're going to get a great big pile of gold by way of thanks, right?"

"With any luck."

"I don't want to leave it down to luck. Durnan said I'd have to wait weeks, because they needed proof that no more drow were going to invade. What if they kept on delaying it? What if those stingy old Masked Lords never paid up?"

"I'm not worried about that, but go on," she said

"See, there has got to be somewhere where they store this reward..."

"The money they're never going to pay us, you mean? If you believe they're so untrustworthy, what makes you think there's a reward stored anywhere at all?"

To Valen's ears, Cora sounded almost as suspicious as he would have been, and she rose in his estimation, just a little.

"Don't be like that!" protested the halfling. "I'm just being cautious, that's all. Just trying to cover my - I mean, our backs."

Valen walked towards the entrance he saw before him. "We're here," he announced. "Drearing's Deep."

Cora peered at the sign before crawled letters. "Are you sure? The sign says Freedom."

"Which is something in short supply in the Underdark, as are signs written in Common." said Valen. "That's odd."

"I thought you knew your way around here?"

"I do. This place was called Drearing's Deep, the last time I heard about it."

"You know what you should do, don't you?" said Tomi. "You should have a wager on this."

"That reminds me, Tomi," said Cora. "Didn't you make a bet with Deekin over something in Undermountain?"

"You're right, Boss. Deekin won and he never paid up!"

For the first time since they had left town, the halfling was silenced.

Walking through the entrance, they were prepared for the possibility of immediate attack. Instead, a gnome no larger than Tomi bounded up to greet them, a nervous smile on his face.

"Greetings, fellow slaves! I, ah, mean ex-slaves, of course. Those who were formerly known as slaves."

"I don't think any of us would like to define ourselves as slaves," said Cora, but the gnome only gave her an uncomprehending look.

She tried again. "Could you settle a little disagreement we're having? Is this village called Freedom, or Drearing's Deep?"

"Both. You see, Drearing's Deep means freedom for us, so we changed our sign...except I wonder if it would be more accurate to call it Near-Freedom... I think. Or Almost-Freedom. There's always a price to pay, but that's just the way things are... isn't it?" The gnome's confused ramblings reminded Cora of the cursed elves of Shaori's Fell, which did nothing to reassure her.

"Do you run your own affairs here?" she asked.

"I can answer that - in part. I am the appointed spokesman for the village, so I suppose that puts me in charge, doesn't it? In theory, if not in practice. Of course, there are the priests... but we don't talk about them."

"Why not?"

"Please, forget I said anything. Better not to tempt fate, especially with priests They're not as troublesome as the illithids I escaped from, at least if you don't encounter any..." The gnome wandered away, his eyes darting from side to side as if he expected a lurking priest to jump out from the shadows at any moment.

If Cora had hoped to get a clearer picture from the other residents of the village, her hopes were quickly dashed. The villagers comprised humans, svirfneblin, a scattering of dwarves and a lone duergar merchant. All save for the merchant were escaped slaves, many of whom were from the illithid camp. Some of the human women wore such ragged and inadequate clothing that Cora offered them a couple of pieces of leather armour she'd been carrying in her pack. The women refused, as if suspicious that any act of charity would have a hidden price. No-one seemed willing to talk about the priests: each attempt to broach the subject failed miserably.

One thing was clear, though. Every time the priests were mentioned, furtive, nervous glances were cast at the building which loomed above all of the other dwellings at the back of the settlement. The group walked closer, passing a circular courtyard before walking up some steps to a grand arched doorway.

"We hardly need any more clues to tell us where these so-called priests live," said Valen, looking upwards.

"Yes, it is a little on the obvious side. I wonder if they're at home right now?" said Cora. She reached out for the one door handle, carved into a dragon's head, when Tomi yelled at her, loudly enough that she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Hands off!"

"What's wrong?"

"The door's trapped. Looks like a bad one too. I'm not sure I can disarm it on my own, and it's not very often Tomi Undergallows gets to say that."

"_Undergallows?_" said Valen.

"What's wrong with it? Can't be any worse than Shadowbreath."

"There's got to be another way in," said Cora, faintly amused by the frosty glance that Valen gave Tomi. It was refreshing not to be on the receiving end for a change. Taking a more careful look around, she saw that the building did not have any sides or back to walk around, with its corners merging into a solid stone wall. The doorway was the only possible entrance: there were no windows and only tiny air vents were placed far out of reach.

As she looked down the steps her gaze fixed upon an impressive bronze gong taking pride of place in the centre of the courtyard. "If one of us banged the gong to get their attention, do you think we could sneak in when they open the door?"

"It's not exactly subtle," said Valen.

"Doesn't matter. As soon as that door opens, I'll be in there, and they won't even see me," said Tomi.

After a few minutes of wrangling over who should do which task, Tomi stood by the doors, shrouded well enough to make him near-invisible even to his allies. Deekin cast an obscuring spell over Cora and Valen which was rather less effective, so they stood close to the wall a little further away from the gate. Deekin bounded down the steps to perform the final task.

"You wants Deekin to ring it now, Boss?" he yelled, the need for subtlety apparently lost on him. "There's something written in draconic language on here..."

"Never mind that, just get on with it!" Cora called back, as softly as she could manage.

Just before the handle made contact with the gong, a lone woman cried out, her voice anguished. "Please! No!"

Deekin did not stay his hand, and the gong reverberated so loudly that Cora covered her ears. Remembering what she was supposed to be doing, she kept watching the door, but it stayed firmly shut. When she saw a glow at the edge of her vision, she glanced down at the courtyard, and saw that a robed priest had materialised by the side of the gong.

"Who calls the Elders?" The priest's black eyes darted around the area before settling on the female villager who had screamed earlier. "You." He beckoned to her.

"Please, I beg you...don't take me - I didn't call you - it was him!" The terrified woman pointed at Deekin.

The priest appraised the kobold. "What's this? Some pastiche of dragon wings? The great Vix'thra would be insulted by such a pathetic offering." He turned back to the villager. "No, I will take you instead."

He advanced on the woman, who was trembling so much that it was visible from a few strides away.

_Run away, idiot!_ Cora called out to the priest. "Wait! I want a word with you."

The priest turned around.

"Bad idea, Cora," said Valen.

"Why? He's alone," she said under her breath. She faced the priest. "Who's Vix'thra, and why are you picking on some poor frightened woman? Does it make you feel big?"

"You dare to fire questions at me?" His dark eyes looked her up and down, and his mouth bared in a grimace that showed pointed canines. "Your insolence offends me."

The last thing Cora saw was his finger pointing towards her: the last thing she heard was a muttered incantation, before she felt the discomfiting sensation of being torn away from the courtyard.

0-0-0

The villager's eyes filled with tears. "She... she sacrificed herself for my sake."

Valen reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Sacrifice? What happens in there, exactly?"

When she did not speak immediately, simply looking up at him with wide eyes, he gave her shoulder a little shake. "Tell me - quickly!"

"There's some kind of ceremony. I... don't exactly know what goes on, because the chosen ones never come out of there again."

"Wonderful," said Valen, letting the woman go. She appeared almost as frightened of him as she had been with the priest, which only irritated him even more.

"Boss is lost!" wailed Deekin.

"Since you're stating the obvious, kobold, I'll do the same. Your Boss is a fool."

"You nots say bad things about Boss!"

"What would you prefer me to call her, our perfect Saviour? Tell me, has she some kind of death wish? If so she only need wait a while for the Valsharess to invade - she'll get what she wants soon enough."

_Yet the Seer thinks she can win. She wants me to help her. _Valen eyed the doors ahead of him. "Cast something on me for protection, kobold. It looks like I'm going to disarm this trap the painful way."

"Deekin will do his best - for Boss's sake. Holds on!" He raised his scaly hands up to perform the incantation.

Valen whirled around as he saw a shadow move from the corner of his eye, but it was only the halfling rogue.

"Don't do it, mate. That trap is a killer."

"Do you have a better suggestion, besides abandoning Cora?"

"Yep. This looks like a two-man job and I'll bet you're handy with a spot of thievery, being a tiefling and all."

"I used to steal when I was a child, but that was born of necessity. Don't assume that all tieflings aspire to be thieves."

"Nor do halflings, funnily enough, but we've got a shockingly bad reputation. Can't imagine why." He grinned. "You know your way around a trap, then?"

"To some extent. You've met tieflings before?"

"Only one. Hard as nails. There he was on one side of a warehouse with his daggers and his gang at the ready, while I was on the other side with my lads. There was a great big scrap brewing 'cause none of us could agree who got there first - but that's a tale for another day, eh? We'd better get on with untangling this thing."

0-0-0

Cora came back to consciousness to find herself naked and alone, secured with strong rope to a cold, hard marble platform. She was in a smaller room than the one she had first arrived in. Over her head, a vast statue of a dragon reared up: beyond, shadows writhed and flickered over the ceiling. Surely they were only the reflection of firelight...but as she turned her head, straining, she could not see a fireplace in the room. She felt a warm trickle over the skin on her neck, and knew that it was her own blood.

She remembered what events had brought her here - the clash of the gong, the rapid teleportation spell. As soon as she arrived in the vast hallway, the priest had started casting another spell, and it had been the same one that Sabal had used to good effect, stopping time for everyone except the caster. He had followed up with something that dazed her mind, further incapacitating her before time began to move again. Her memories from that point were vague and muddled, but she remembered that he issued orders to have her stripped and brought upstairs.

_Not what he was expecting. That's what he said, when he saw my body. When he tasted me._

When they secured her to the altar, she had feared the priest was going to rape her. Instead he had caused her pain in another way entirely. She remembered the explosion of agony as he bit down on her neck, the dulling sensation, the weakness that followed. Her vision had been blurred, doubling as the vampire stood up.

Blood - her blood - ran from the side of his mouth as he spoke. "Brimstone," he had said. "Not what I expected. Your blood burns the tongue and tastes bitter, but it exudes power." He wiped his hand over his face before licking his fingertips. "I wonder if we can use you in a similar way to the celestial? If not, then the Elders will feast on you before Vix'thra takes your bones. Either way, your body will serve us well."

With a shudder, she tore her mind away from the recollection, concentrating on her current predicament. She twisted her hands, trying to extricate herself, but it was impossible to free herself. If she curled her right hand around she could barely reach a section of rope with the pointed tip of her fingernail. Thankfully she had not remembered to trim her claws before leaving camp, and they were the only weapon she had right now. She took to rubbing the rope repetitively.

The priest had gone upstairs to consult his books. Not knowing how much time she had, she continued her efforts, uttering a quiet prayer to Helm as she scratched at the rope.

_If I die here, I can do nothing to protect these villagers from those who prey on them. These sacrifices must have happened many times over. Please, help me...and lend your assistance to my allies, if they still survive. _

As if in answer, she heard an echoing crack, followed by a creaking sound coming from the hallway, as if an extremely large door was being pushed open.

_Are they here at last? Please let it be them._

The sound had not gone unheard elsewhere, for Cora heard running footsteps, followed by the sound of fighting.

When the door finally opened, it was Valen who dashed through, ready for another fight. Instead, he saw her, and stopped dead in his tracks momentarily before striding towards her.

Crouching down, he ripped his pack from his shoulders and started searching through it.

"Aren't you going to free me?"

"Looking for something to do the job quickly," he said, before drawing out a dagger. He began to cut through the thick ropes, and when Cora stole a glance at him, she noticed that his normally pale cheeks were just as flushed as her own must be. She was relieved that he kept his attention wholly focused on the business of freeing her, and he didn't make the experience any more humiliating than it already was.

As the last rope fell away, Cora sat up. Valen, his eyes still averted, took his cloak off, holding it in front of her. "Here - take this."

Valen turned his back while she donned his cloak: as it featured arm slits she was able to fashion it into a makeshift robe, using a section of rope as a belt. It was only after she jumped down from the altar that he looked at her again. "What happened?"

"The priest knows the Time Stop spell. He managed to cast it before I could fight back, and his goons tied me up."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not half as much as they were planning to." She grimaced. "I think I was set to be their evening meal. The priest drank some of my blood." She turned her head, showing him the puncture.

His fingers barely brushed against her skin as he lifted away a strand of her hair. He scrutinised the wound. "I might have something you can dress it with, although it looks as if it's starting to heal. Did you drink any blood from him in return?"

She stared at him, appalled. "Of course not - what do you think I am?"

"Not what I thought you were," he said, with an odd, quizzical look on his face, "but I was more concerned whether they tried to make you into a vampire."

"No. That's one thing I can be thankful for, at least." Before she could say anything more, she heard the sounds of fighting coming from the hall downstairs.

Valen dashed towards the doorway, but two shadowy creatures fell down from the ceiling, blocking his progress.

He had not thought to give her his dagger, but she couldn't just stand by and watch him fighting. Forgetting her damaged dignity for a while, she fought alongside him, using her claws to scratch and slash at the creatures. If they were less effective than a sword or Valen's flail, at least they proved a useful distraction, making her enemies more susceptible to her companion's attacks.

Just after they had finished with the shadow wraiths, a rather bedraggled kobold and halfling ran through the doorway.

"Boooosss!" Deekin cried. He hugged Cora tightly before she could squirm away from him. He straightened up, his face a picture of innocent surprise. "Why you gots nothing on underneath your cloak?"

She could feel a blush creeping up her neck again. "The vampires took my armour."

Tomi stared at her rather more attentively than she liked. "Oh, that's a shame. Let me give you a hug, too."

"No chance! Go and find some chests to disarm. My armour must be around here somewhere."

"Talking of chests, I could do with some motivation..." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Just go," she snapped, losing her patience. She pointed towards the nearest doorway, and she saw Tomi's look of surprise as he spotted her claws. It was not a day for keeping secrets.

"Leave her in peace, halfling," said Valen, jerking his head towards the door.

While Tomi muttered under his breath, he followed the tiefling out of the room.

0-0-0

When Cora emerged from the side room, Valen noticed that she was not only fully armoured, but was wearing gloves as well, in spite of the warm atmosphere in the building.

_No-one would know that you're not human now, save for the point at the tip of your ears. Even I was fooled, for a while._

But then, hadn't he always felt a gap between what he observed and what she said about herself? She had never demonstrated the slightest difficulty in seeing in the dark, and she had never offered any convincing explanation for her ability. Beyond that, there was something else he sensed about her, something he could not define save that it vaguely reminded him of home.

_Sigil._

Yet she came from the Prime, the surface world above them, if she was to be believed. During his own short time in Faerun, he had learned that disguising his features was an essential tactic. If he evoked suspicion by walking around in a thick, heavy cloak, it was nothing compared with the typical reaction once his hood was down. Maybe she had learned to do the same, and it was easy for her. Since her legs were covered most of the time, her claws would have been her only concern.

_That I can understand, but why keep up the pretence here? Why bother when one of the first people you meet is a tiefling? Why lie about what you are?_

He wondered, but he did not ask. This was not the time. They were about to go upstairs, to find the place where the vampire priest had retreated to.

Her voice cut into his thoughts. "I think we'd better take care. I don't know whether he's alone up there, but if he tries to stop time again, you can expect him to follow up with some disabling spells pretty quickly. Deekin, do you think you can summon something to send in first?"

0-0-0

The battle had been difficult, and probably fruitless. Although Sodalis was gone, there was no sign of his body. Like some of the other priests, his form had dissolved into a misty cloud, floating out of the room.

None of them had the energy to follow the cloud and track the vampire to his resting place. All of them were looking battered and they needed to recuperate before continuing their search of the building. They barricaded the door with a bookshelf - once he had returned to his body he would not just be able to float back in here - and settled down to rest.

Cora could not sleep, and after a while, she knew it was never going to happen. Across the room, she watched Valen, who had volunteered to watch over them as they rested. He was sitting at a desk, bright strands of hair trailing down over his face as he flicked through a book in a mildly distracted manner. He didn't strike her as the type to be interested in learning the magical arts, and she doubted there was much else to read in Sodalis's study. She was about to slip on her gloves while she was still underneath her cloak, something she always did upon waking: realising that it was an old, pointless habit, she left them off. After rising from her bedroll, she walked over to the desk.

"Good book?" she asked.

"Only if you have a pressing need to find out how celestial blood can be used to power a golem."

"Not exactly a relaxing bedtime read."

Valen snapped the book shut. "Talking of which, why aren't you sleeping?"

"I can't relax, and I've given up on trying. I'll take over the watch, if you like."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not tired."

A silence fell between them. Since they did not know each other well, it did not feel entirely comfortable.

Valen reached for another book, but from the perfunctory way he flicked through the pages, Cora knew he wasn't reading at all.

Her own thoughts kept returning to what had happened earlier. Being seen naked was a fear of hers, something she had gone to exaggerated lengths to avoid at times - yet she'd been caught out in the inn in Waterdeep, and once again the same had happened here. Perhaps it was life's way of telling her there were much worse experiences, and logically she knew that it was true. She could have died today, yet still her mind kept turning back to the moment when Valen saw her. For some reason she found it far more excruciating to recall than the encounter with Sodalis. With the latter, she had been far too angry to worry about how she must look.

_At least Valen didn't say anything. He seemed almost as embarrassed as I was._

Being a damsel in distress didn't come easy to her - she was used to being the tomboy, the strongest one, the one who sorted out the problems of others. It was a new and not entirely comfortable situation having to accept another's help, especially someone she was not entirely at ease with. Still, the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

_I didn't even thank him for saving my life._

"Valen, I want to say something about what happened earlier," she began. "Thanks for rescuing me, and for being such a gentleman about it."

He raised an eyebrow. "How did you expect me to behave? Like a slavering beast?"

_Great. He's no better at accepting thanks than I am at giving it. _"I don't know," she said, "but I would have expected no different from a paladin."

He snorted. "Don't compare me to one of those."

She stared at him, wondering why he had to be so prickly when she was trying to be conciliatory. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't happen to have a particularly high opinion of paladins," he said with a shrug.

_You're speaking to someone who once wanted to become one. _"Why not? Do their religious sensibilities offend you?"

"Not especially. I don't happen to share their unshakable faith, but nor do I care what they believe in. The same tolerance doesn't apply the other way around. They don't tend to like tieflings, surprisingly enough."

"They're not fond of vampires either, although I can hardly object to that. Look, I don't deny that a minority are fanatics, but you are loyal to something that they would clearly recognise as a good cause. I'm sure any paladin would understand and appreciate that, once they got to know you."

"You can believe that if you want, but my last experience of meeting a paladin told me all that I need to know. I didn't get the chance to introduce myself, since he attacked me on sight."

She had no need to ask Valen how the encounter ended, since he was sitting here alive and well before her. "It's a shame. No doubt the paladin thought he was fighting on the side of good. They want to be the perfect warriors for their gods - and sometimes they are inclined to forget they are only human, prone to make errors of judgement."

"I am sure that the gods can be just as fallible as humans at times," said Valen. "If paladins are unaware of that, they are impossibly naive."

"I'd take a little naivety over cynicism any day," she countered, "but I happen to be more well-informed about paladins than you might think. I've met quite a few of them in the past. My adoptive father is a paladin of Helm."

His eyes widened. "Truly? What does he think of you?"

She had the feeling, as she had in the past, that they were having two different conversations, that he meant something slightly different than the words she was hearing. Still, she endeavoured to answer his question as best she could.

"The one downside to being brought up by a paladin is that you can never get away with half the things other people's children seem to. Not that I didn't try, of course, and sometimes I succeeded," she said, smiling at the recollection. "These days, he's proud of the things I've achieved, but he doesn't always like my methods. He thinks I'm far too impulsive, for a start."

"I couldn't imagine where he got that impression," he said, looking faintly amused. He adopted a more thoughtful expression before speaking again. "Doesn't he care about your ancestry, or is he unaware of it?"

"If ancestry mattered to him, I doubt he would have taken me on at all. He never even met my mother, because a midwife brought me to him. You were there with me when I talked to the Seer about my real parents, weren't you? I didn't even have any idea what my real mother looked like until I saw her in the Mirror of All-Seeing."

"What was she like?"

"She didn't resemble me much, save for around the eyes. She's fairer than me. Her hair's much straighter, too."

"Human?"

"As far as I could tell," she replied.

Valen was scrutinising her now. It was not the intimidating stare she had seen when she first met him, but an open, unguarded curiosity. "There's something I don't understand about you. Either you have spent a lifetime disguising your identity and you choose to carry on the charade even here in the Underdark. Or you genuinely don't know what you are."

She became very still. _Don't know what you are. _Such a lack of self-knowledge had dogged her for much of her life. She was a human woman with a couple of abnormal features, or else there was something alien, inhuman, somewhere in her family tree. She guessed the latter, but she did not know what it was. Today, Valen had seen her without her customary armour and gloves. She did not know if he had met many human women in the past, or whether he had been intimately involved with any, but they had walked past several half-dressed females in the village today, displaying smooth, _normal_ skin on their bare legs. She did not need to see their hands to know that their fingernails would be clear and straight-edged too.

"The truth is, I don't know. The best definition I have for myself is that I'm mostly human, but there is probably something else in the family tree too. I certainly _feel _human, save for when I see someone who doesn't quite look the same as me."

She felt a knot of apprehension in her stomach even before she asked the question, but she chose to ask it anyway. "If you have a clearer idea, why don't you tell me?"


	13. Chapter 13 Proof

_A/N - thanks to those who reviewed recently!_

**Chapter 13 - Proof**

Valen saw the way that Cora chewed slightly at her lower lip. Her uncovered hands stiffened upon the table, the claw-tips digging into the wood. He did not think she could fake such obvious apprehension unless she was a supremely good bard, and he knew she was nothing of the kind. It dawned upon him that she genuinely did not know her own race, that she had not been lying about it at all_. Clueless. _

He did not try to dress the truth up or soften if for her: it wasn't his way. "You're a tiefling."

At first she gaped at him, her eyes wide: but her shocked expression gradually faded. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I don't see it as something to jest about," he said, his voice stony.

She ran her hands through her curls, parting her hair at the side before inclining her head towards him. "Look, no horns - not even tiny ones."

Valen remembered that Cora once told him she had never met a tiefling before. "Not all of us have horns - or tails, for that matter. We are as varied as our ancestors. Some of us have slitted pupils, some have bifurcated tongues, some have leathery wings-"

"I don't have any of those features," she said, interrupting him.

"I haven't finished. Some tieflings have scaly skin, whether all over the body or just in certain areas. Pointed ears. Claws. Does that sound more familiar to you now? Besides that, we invariably have the ability to see in the dark."

"From what you're saying, tieflings can look like just about _anything. _That doesn't mean very much. With the pointed ears and the night vision, you could say the same about an elf."

"It doesn't explain your other attributes."

"No, I don't believe any of this. You're just making this up."

"Why would I want to do that? What would it it achieve?"

"I don't know, but it's obvious that you haven't exactly been overjoyed about my leadership ever since the day we met. Maybe you're just trying to throw me off my stride again."

"Do you think I would try to insult you by telling you that we might have something in common? That only makes it clear what you think of tieflings, for all of your high-minded talk about judging people by their actions! Cora, I don't care what you are: it doesn't especially interest me. I wouldn't mind whether you were a _kobold_, if you could defeat the Valsharess."

"You wants Deekin?" Valen groaned inwardly as the kobold piped up sleepily. He had raised his voice, unwittingly: but was it any surprise that he should do so whilst talking with someone who was deaf to the truth?

"Go back to sleep, Deeks," Cora said quietly, as if hushing a child - which the kobold acted like, most of the time.

Tomi was stirring too. "What's going on, lover's tiff or something?"

Valen glared at him, while Cora told him to shut up and go back to sleep, showing considerably less patience than she had with the kobold.

The halfling sat up. "Your loud yacking means that I'm wide awake whether I like it or not."

"Deekin fully awake now too."

Valen observed the deep breath that Cora took, as if she was struggling to appear calm.

"Well," she said in an unnaturally bright tone of voice. "If we're all feeling lively, we'll move on now, shall we?"

* * *

As Cora strapped on her breastplate, she realised her hands were shaking. She pressed on with it in spite of her fumbling: if she concentrated on her task, she wouldn't have to look at the others. Especially not the bearer of bad news. She didn't want Valen to realise how much his claim had shaken her, and hopefully the others wouldn't notice anything amiss either. It was fortunate Deekin and Tomi had only overheard the end of their talk. If she kept acting as if nothing had happened, she could go on in just the same way she had before. After all, she had no proof, no corroboration, nothing tangible had changed...

_Because it isn't true._

_It can't be._

_If it was..._

_No. Don't entertain the thought. He's lying. _

_Or deluded._

_But what if...?_

_No. He's wrong. He has to be._

Leaving the room, she kept ahead of the others, walking through the altar room and the entrance hall. She heard them talking quietly behind her, but did not try to listen.

Anger simmered steadily within her, and she dealt with it in her usual way. Not with words, or with thoughts. She fought, and there were ample opportunities to do so.

After they descended into the lower reaches of the temple, they were attacked again and again. Of all of them, Cora was the least well-prepared for a sustained bout of fighting, but it did not matter to her that some of her blood had been drained earlier, or that she had not regained her ability to use spells. She threw herself into battle with passion: each sword-thrust, each swing was aimed not just at her enemy, but at the vague, ill-defined source of her anger.

The cultists used their fists and feet as weapons, and Cora was amassing a fine collection of bruises under her armour. Solid as their punches felt, the vampires would dissolve into mist when defeated, returning in corporeal form a while later. The group was only able to make real progress when they discovered a series of small rooms containing coffins. They had found and staked two sleeping vampires so far, whilst two more coffins remained empty.

Cora smelled dust and dried blood as she pulled up the heavy lid of the fourth coffin.

The vampire's arms were crossed over his chest, as if in a feeble attempt to protect himself during one of the few times he was truly vulnerable. After grabbing a broken chair-leg from the pile of debris nearby, Cora shoved one arm aside in order to position the stake. He stirred, but too late. His eyes bulged as she pushed down hard on her stake: he let out an agonised shriek as he died.

_Music to my ears, blood-sucking bastard._

Even as she turned from the casket, two more vampires ran into the room, and one part of her was glad that they were there. She could pit herself against them, exert her body until her muscles ached. It would not be everyone's idea of comfort, of solace, but it was hers.

_What does that say about me? _ _I actually enjoy this. Take pleasure in their deaths, not just because of what they are, but because there's some kind of release that I feel each time._

The thought distracted her, and one of the vampires dealt her a blow which was almost hard enough to knock her out.

_Damn! Should have seen it coming._ She fought harder, in spite of the throbbing ache in her skull, and felt a deep satisfaction when she stabbed Enserric deep into the heart of her assailant. The body faded before floating out of the room, and Cora felt her sense of achievement ebbing away just as rapidly.

"Umm, Boss? Why can you nots kill vampires with a sword, when a piece of broken wood always works fine once they in their coffin?"

She whirled around to face Deekin. "How should I know? Why don't _you_ use a bit of wood to fight them, just to see how you fare? Better still, why don't you go and visit a library sometime, instead of treating me like some kind of encyclopaedia?"

As she turned away from him, she heard him say "Deekin tries that in Waterdeep once, and they chases Deekin away." He sounded dejected.

"Never mind, who needs a load of dusty old books anyway?" said Tomi. Under his breath, she heard him add "It's her time of the month, I reckon."

Suddenly travelling with three males didn't seem like such a wonderful idea.

She left the room, only to see the cloud of mist proceeding in a leisurely manner towards an open doorway on the opposite side of the hall.

She wasn't going to let him get away, and she ran at full tilt, not caring that she had barely caught her breath from the end of her last fight. She ran through the doorway, to be faced by a group of pallid monks.

_Four? No, five._

They circled her, and all she could do was to try to block them on one side whilst taking punishing hits on the other. An unexpected single punch from the side knocked Enserric from her hands, and she felt a surge of energy, borne of rage and desperation. She dug her claws deep into the eyes of her nearest attacker.

She heard Valen's gritty roar, Tomi's yell and Deekin's song. She felt a rush of relief: they could take them down, together. She wasn't going to die.

Yet it was close...too close, and when the last vampire evaporated they could not afford the luxury of stopping to catch their breath. Immediately they went in search of the coffins, carrying out the same grisly task as before.

Cora wiped what she thought was sweat from her brow, but as she brought her damp hand back down, she saw it was blood, and she did not know whether it belonged to one of the vampires or to herself.

"You're pushing yourself far too hard," came a deep voice from behind her.

She half-turned to look at Valen. "I'm here to fight, aren't I? That's what I'm doing. Fighting."

His brow furrowed. "You would have fared better if you hadn't been alone and ill-prepared. Why do you have to keep taking so many risks?"

"I know my limits. I do have _some_ self-awareness, you know."

He gave her a chilly smile which faded almost as soon as it formed. "I'm sure you do, to some extent, or you wouldn't have survived this long. Still, I get the impression you're taking it too far now. You're making it difficult for the rest of us, if we need to keep coming to your rescue."

She stared at him. "To _my_ rescue? To hear you speak, anyone would think that I hadn't killed any of these vampires, that you did it all by yourself while I stood around weeping into a lace handkerchief. I can see you're never going to let me forget what happened earlier, are you?"

He scowled. "I wasn't even thinking about that, but there's something I've observed from past military experience. When I've seen someone fighting past exhaustion, I rarely saw them alive again. The difference was that they were on an open battlefield, with nowhere to hide and rest. You have a chance to stop, so take it while you can."

She was about to retort when Deekin spoke up.

"Boss, Deekin thinks you looks tired too."

"Same here," said Tomi. "I wouldn't mind a quick rest either, after fighting all of those vamps at once."

Outnumbered, she silently admitted to herself that she was exhausted.

* * *

Valen should have been asleep by now. The endless tossing and turning of the woman lying a few feet away from him was not helping at all: nor were the irritable little sighs she kept making. He was not surprised when she finally stood up and walked over to where Deekin was standing watch.

"Do you not feels as sleepy as you looks, Boss?"

If the kobold attempted to talk quietly, the timbre of his voice meant that it did not work particularly well. Valen knew he wasn't going to have a chance to sleep if they tried to carry on a conversation. He sat up, easing himself from his bedding, and then got to his feet.

"Next time we do this, remind me to bring a sleeping draught with my supplies," he said, eyeing Cora.

Cora glared at him as if _he _was the sole cause of her insomnia, and walked towards the adjoining room. Holding the door open, she turned to face him. "I want a word."

He followed her, letting the door shut behind him. "What is so important that it can't wait until after you're rested?"

"What do _you_ think?" She was angry, that much was obvious.

"Is it about what I told you earlier? I thought you didn't believe me."

"I didn't. I still don't - oh, I don't know!" She raked her fingers erratically through her hair, making the already-tousled curls stick out at wild angles. "You can't just leave it like this. Offer me some proof!"

"Proof?"

"Yes! Tell me, what makes you so certain that I'm a tiefling? Have you seen every species in existence?"

"I've seen a good few, but probably not."

"Then how am I supposed to believe you?"

"Well, I've met many tieflings before. It's not just about the way you look, although that's a strong part of it. It's a sense I have when I'm around you, something which feels familiar. Maybe it's what the Seer would call an aura, but I can't see them, so it's based upon instinct."

"That's it? Some incredibly vague hunch?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Besides your physical features? It's good enough for me."

"It's not good enough for me!" she snapped.

"Then forget about it. Don't believe me; go back to being as you were! I'll stick to my theory and you can keep yours."

She paced around him: he could see by the short, rapid steps and her clenched fists that she was on a sword-edge of tension. _Does she ever descend fully into uncontrollable rage, as I have? _He doubted it. _Another of my vague hunches._

She stopped. "I... I can't go back," she said, her voice suddenly faltering. "Not if I think there's even a tiny chance that you're telling the truth. I know I'm not normal."

"Not by the standards of Toril, perhaps. It depends where you are."

"That's not much use to me..." Her voice trailed off, and when she spoke again, her voice was unsteady. "If you're right, then I don't even know who I am, any more. Don't you see that?"

_Wonderful. All we need is for our leader to have a massive identity crisis, while we are in the middle of dealing with a vampire cult. _

"You're still you," he said firmly. "You're still the same woman, and your life history is just the same as it was before."

She turned on her heel. "Is it? I'm not so sure. Either my family didn't know what I was - which I doubt, especially with Father - or they _lied_**, **repeatedly. They let me think that I was a human with a few oddities, and that everything would turn out fine, just as long as I hid everything away so that no-one would ask awkward questions! 'Aren't you going to put your gloves on, dear?' That's all I heard when I was young, from my mother. Even indoors. And my father - he expected so much of me that it was nearly impossible to live up to it. I tried so damned hard not to disappoint him! He was always telling me to question my motives, to examine myself so everything I did was for the right reason. No cruelty, no selfishness, no dishonesty - but during all that time, he must have been hiding the truth from me! Paladins aren't supposed to lie." She swallowed convulsively. "That is, if I _am_ a tiefling."

_You must half-believe it, or else you wouldn't be so emotional. _

"Don't you see why I want proof, now?" she said to him. "It's because nothing makes sense to me any more, if I am what you say I am."

"I can't prove it to you," he said, "short of dragging you away to the Blood Wars, and I wouldn't wish that fate upon either of us." He saw the blank look on her face: it occurred to him that she probably did not know about the Blood Wars. Her knowledge of infernal matters was so sketchy that it was unsurprising she had never realised she was a tiefling. Still, if he started on the subject, neither of them would get the rest they so badly needed.

Instead, after a moment's thought, he offered another way to help assuage her doubts. "You could talk to the Seer about this when you return to Lith My'athar. She has a way of looking into people, seeing what lies beneath surface appearances. It has to be worth a try, if you're any more likely to believe her word."

He saw the way her expression brightened, as if she was clinging onto a scrap of hope. _You'll believe her, whether she says yes or no. __You'd rather trust a drow than another tiefling, but at least it proves that you have some genuine respect for the Seer._

"I suppose...it can't do any harm to ask." She sounded calmer, although she looked more weary than before, her outburst having drained her further. "I know there's no point in talking any more about this, when I need to rest. I can worry about getting some more proof later."

She turned away from him, walking towards the door. Her downcast gaze and posture were reminiscent of someone who had been told she had an incurable disease.

_Which is exactly how I feel about my taint, if I am honest with myself. _"Cora, wait."

She turned around, slowly.

"I can't say that I take any pride in my ancestry either, but it's there and I can't do anything to change it. All I can do is to remind myself that I am still partly human." His eyes met hers. "Whoever your ancestors were, it doesn't negate your human side, and it's likely to be stronger within you than it is in me."

She nodded, but said nothing.

"There's... one more thing. I...didn't say you were a tiefling to throw you off your stride, or hurt you: I said it because I believe it to be true."

She gazed back at him as if she was trying to do the Seer's job, to read him: he doubted that she could. "Well, that's something, at least," she said, almost in a whisper, before walking into the other room.

* * *

If Cora could hardly say she was happy, she was feeling rather less agitated when they made their way to the next unexplored area of the temple. Her nap had helped to calm her down as well as restore her energy. She decided to stop mulling over her ancestry until she had leisure to think. Although it took all her willpower, she knew that introspection was best kept for rest times, if she wished to survive.

It was just as well that she was feeling more focused than before, for a group of bone golems clattered towards them as soon as they entered the room. Unlike the vampires, the bone golems did not rise again once they were defeated, but they still made formidable opponents. Fighting them was like attacking a series of moving walls: each sword blow jarred her to her elbow and made Enserric complain that he was in imminent risk of getting chipped. Repeatedly.

Once they were finished, there was nothing left but several piles of fractured, scattered bones on the floor.

_Where did all the bones come from? Sacrificed villagers?_

Looking more carefully around the room, Cora spotted a raised dais at one end, with a slim, pale body lying down on it. She wondered if it was a vampire, resting outside of a sarcophagus, but as she walked closer, she wasn't sure. The woman was so still she appeared dead, not sleeping, and she was attached by tubes running from her arm to a mechanical contraption nearby.

Strands of lustrous white hair spread out around her shoulders, but the woman was neither elderly nor one of the drow. Her skin had a pearlescent glow, and even with her eyes closed, her fine bone structure showed that she was possessed of a rare beauty.

_Yet there's something about her that repels me, makes me want to back away. _

"Still alive," said Valen from behind her, "but only just."

Trying to ignore her sense of aversion, Cora kneeled down close to the woman to see if she was breathing: she saw the woman shudder but her eyes did not open. Tattered feathers lay beneath her like a cloak - her own wings, Cora realised - but she did not have the slanting features of the Avariel.

She turned to Valen. "How could you tell she was living?"

"Her presence makes my skin crawl. She wouldn't affect me in that way if she was dead," he said.

_Strange that she affects him similarly, Cora_ thought.

Before she could ask him why, Tomi spoke up. "Well, I don't feel bad around her. She looks like an angel to me."

"That's exactly what she is," said Valen.

They tried to revive her by dripping small amounts of healing potion onto her tongue: they did not know whether disconnecting her from the machine would heal her or kill her, so they left it alone for the time being. The angel coughed and whimpered as she swallowed the drops, but colour began to return to her face, and eventually her eyes flickered open. They were golden: they reminded Cora of reflected sunlight, and were equally hard to gaze upon.

Cora had one arm around her, propping her up: she felt the other woman cringe away from her. "It's all right. You're safe now," she said.

"With you?" Her bright gaze darted from Cora to Valen, then back again. "No...you can't possibly intend to rescue me."

"Why not?" asked Cora.

"Your kind would never perform an act of mercy to a deva. Watch me die, and gloat if you wish. Having failed my task, I long for death, so it makes no difference who witnesses it."

Valen's expression hardened. "If I was as heartless as you believe I am, ingrate, I'd suggest that Cora dropped you onto the stones. Right now, it's tempting."

Cora lowered her onto the dais, gently enough to belie Valen's threat. She was taken aback by the woman's manner, though. "What did you mean about my kind?"

"Tieflings, of course," the deva said, edging herself further away. "I can feel a horrid jarring sensation radiating from both of you, but not from the gnome or the dog-like creature."

"Oi! I'm no gnome!" protested Tomi.

"Deekin be kobold, not dog!"

"I suppose two out of four correct guesses is better than none," said Valen pointedly. "And you have exactly the same effect upon me."

_She said I was a tiefling. No-one prompted her. She just came out with it._

"Whatever else I happen to be, I'm not callous, or evil, or whatever else you've judged me to be after a single glance," Cora said. "We're trying to help. We've already used up a healing potion on you, and I don't walk away from someone who's dying unless they try to kill me first. Unless you really want to throw your life away, tell us how we can safely get you unhooked from this thing."

The deva stared at her. "You sound sincere, if somewhat ill-tempered. I find myself wanting to believe you." She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "Very well, I shall cast aside my suspicions: I have nothing left to lose. My name is Lavoera. Please don't unhook me yet - I fear I'll bleed to death if you try. I believe there's some kind of part which needs to be inserted into the machine before I can be detached from it. "

"I read about this in Sodalis's study," said Valen. "It's a thin metal rod, if I remember correctly."

"Yes... that's it!" exclaimed Lavoera. "I believe the vampire has it."

"Sodalis?" asked Cora.

"Not him. I don't know the vampire's name, but he's stronger than some of the other monks." The deva jerked her head towards the unopened doorway on the opposite side of the room. "He always retreats to that area - perhaps you could catch him asleep? You might find some more golems, and a small group of drow are staying on that side of the building as well."

* * *

A few tough battles followed, but eventually all of the the golems and drow were defeated. The lone vampire proved to be a difficult adversary, but they traced him back to his resting place, and a plank from a broken wooden chest was finally plunged through his heart. A search around the surrounding rooms unearthed a few items of note: among them was a letter, signed by the Valsharess. She did not address the mysterious Vix'thra as a god, but as a subordinate.

"I'd know her style even if it was unsigned," said Valen. "It's her usual charming mix of threats and bribery."

"When did you see a letter from the Valsharess?" asked Cora.

"The Seer has a couple of them, sent before the Valsharess realised that she wasn't going to bend the knee to her. Matron Myrune is supposed to have at least one letter, although I've never seen it." He grimaced. "She doesn't deign to speak to me."

"It sounds like they were building an army from those golems here. I hope we've destroyed all of them."

"It's a start, but we have to get to the heart of this," he said, "If we don't, they might create more, assuming that the deva survives long enough."

"Sodalis said something to me about my blood being powerful. I think he wondered whether he could use me in the same way," Cora said with a shiver.

"Who knows, perhaps it could work for any kind of planetouched blood."

They left the room, returning to the place where the deva lay. After a little trial and error, they managed to free her.

Instead of thanking them, the deva cast a couple of healing spells upon herself before sinking back down to the dais. She took her head in her hands and burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" asked Cora.

"What's right? I failed! I had a mission, once, but what came of all my fine intentions? They must have drained away with my blood. Oh yes, I can leave, but my reunion will be marred by shame and worthlessness. Dirty little deva! Bad Lavoera! All I have left is to go home and tell my superiors how useless I am."

Cora should have felt some sympathy. Maybe another time she would have done, but the combination of the deva's oddly disconcerting presence and her sobbing was wearing on her nerves like a song played out of tune. "Stop being so wet!"

Lavoera looked up at her. The deva's eyes were bloodshot, slightly diminishing the effect of her ethereal beauty. "What?"

"I said, don't be so wet. Yes, you've had a terrible time of it. No you haven't succeeded in your mission. Not yet. I can understand your unhappiness, but you've just been rescued. That's a start, isn't it? You've got to look ahead, start thinking about what you're going to do next. Sitting here and moping isn't going to achieve anything."

_Even if I was doing the same, earlier._

"What else _can_ I do, other than to return home in disgrace? I'm no longer naive enough to think that I can survive here on my own."

"Then find allies! You could help us, for a start. You've had a terrible setback, but you're alive. You'll only be a true failure if you give up at this stage. Even if you're too weak to fight yet, you could go to Lith My'athar and join up with the Seer's forces."

Valen nodded. "Cora's right: it's your chance to make amends."

Cora thought she detected an approving look on his face. _That makes a change, _she thought.

"The Seer?" asked Lavoera. "I heard the drow mentioning her before I lost consciousness - they seemed to have a poor opinion of her."

"There's a reason for that," said Valen. "She is a drow priestess, but before you make assumptions, let me say that she worships Eilistraee rather than Lolth. She is also one of the few people who stands against the Valsharess."

"She sounds rather atypical for a drow, and I've heard that Eilistraee is a beneficent deity." Lavoera wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know I have been weak," she said. "I had a vision of everything working perfectly from beginning to end. After I was captured, I was ready to give up and die - but now I have another chance to redeem myself. It's rather ironic that I needed a scolding from a tiefling before I could see sense...but my old prejudices are showing once more, aren't they? Sorry. I'm hopeless sometimes."

The deva gave Cora a sweetly apologetic look, widening her eyes. Such an expression could charm many women, and most likely every man in existence. Cora shot a sideways glance at Valen, only to see him rolling his eyes. _Not every man, then. _She suppressed a grin as Lavoera spoke once more.

"Now I'm no longer attached to that dreadful machine, I can feel my lost blood quickly regenerating. I will help your Seer, but I would also like to fight alongside you in this temple, if you'll have me. I doubt my superiors would object if Sodalis and Vix'thra were wiped from this world forever. It's a pity that my mace went missing, but perhaps there's something else I can use?"

"No need," said Cora. "Is this it?" She brought out a mace they had found earlier.

"It is, thank you!" cried the deva, and if she winced as her hand brushed against Cora's, she covered for it quickly, giving her a grateful smile.

The uncomfortable feeling was entirely mutual, and Cora hoped she would grow more accustomed to the deva's company. Even if she didn't, she knew that she had to be pragmatic. They needed all the help they could get.

"I suppose we should move on, now, if everyone's ready?"

"Hang on a minute," said Tomi. "You've got me confused here. What's all this about you being a tiefling, suddenly? You never mentioned it before."

"Deekin wondering as well. Deekin has been writing in his book that you is human lady all this time. Now you nots?"

"Believe me, it's as much of a surprise to me as it is to you," said Cora.


	14. Ch 14 Feel the Fear and Doom it Anyway

**Chapter 14 - Feel the Fear and Doom it Anyway**

The Seer kept careful count of the cycles in the sky far above her. Although she could not see the moon in the Underdark, she still observed the same ritual blessings as if she were bathed in its light on the surface. The full moon was a time when she would use her temple as a sleep chamber. She would lay still on a low bed, guarded at a discreet distance by a couple of the faithful stationed close to the door, and she would allow herself to drift into sleep. Sometimes, the most significant dreams came this way, while at other times visions would come to her spontaneously.

Before she slept, she focused her mind's eye on a place, far above them all on the surface: a clearing where she had sometimes danced under the moon in joyful worship of Eilistraee. One day she hoped to stay there permanently: for the time being she could only visit the land in dream and inner vision. Tonight she could see the moon rising in the sky, its gleam reflected on the birches which stood sentinel around the clearing. This place, this spiritual heartland, sustained her, reminding her of how she wished her people to live. She made silent supplication to her goddess until sleep overcame her.

When the vision came to her, it was likewise of a place that she knew, a winding stream not far from their sacred clearing. Normally its waters were clear and sparkling, but tonight they flowed sluggishly. Through the slow-moving stream, a swimmer was approaching her vantage point, as as she grew closer, the Seer observed that it was Cora. She was naked, her body lithe and muscular as she cut through the waters. She did not quite appear as she did in the waking world, for a long, thin tail undulated like a snake in her stead.

Cora stopped swimming, stood up as the water lapped around her waist. Reaching down, she dipped her hands into the water, forming a cup with her hands, a broken vessel where the liquid oozed through, darkening her fingers.

_Blood? _wondered the Seer, capable of lucid thought within the dream but incapable of influencing events in any way. _No, not that, something else...something thicker. Mud. Muddy waters? If so, what might be muddying them... or whom?_

She had the sensation that something was watching her, and it was not Cora: as she turned her head she heard a rustling in the undergrowth nearby. She tried to see what was there, but whether the intruder was a person or animal, it had gone, and with that, the dream faded, leaving her none the wiser.

* * *

If Cora had any concerns that her companions might react badly to the news that she was a tiefling, she was soon reassured. Tomi thought the whole business was hilarious.

"You really didn't know? You never wondered at all? No idea?"

"Well obviously I had some suspicions, but I never thought I might be a tiefling..."

"Not even with those claws of yours?" He chuckled. "Blimey. Born yesterday, that's what you are. Green as grass."

"Well, how would I know? I never met a single tiefling in my life before Valen. I can't be entirely certain, but it seems likely, if I believe both his word and Lavoera's."

The deva looked pained. "I would never lie about such a matter - or indeed anything!"

Deekin didn't seem to be troubled by anything save for the spelling corrections he would have to make: on reflection, it was hardly surprising. His loyalties were to his Boss, and he had rarely experienced any kindness from humans. Why would he care if Boss turned out not to be human after all? Granted, the only other tiefling he knew was not especially friendly, but Valen had not yet tried to kill him, throw stones at him or chase him out of an outbuilding with a pitchfork.

In fact it was quite anti-climactic how easily Cora's companions accepted the news. If it was a huge shock to her, it had no such effect upon them. Perhaps it was because they had already become accustomed to travelling in the company of another tiefling, Cora thought. Or else people like herself and Valen held no great novelty, now that an angel had joined their ranks.

Cora walked closer to Lavoera, but not too close. "You said you had a mission here. Would you mind telling me what it was?"

"Not in the slightest, but I doubt it will mean very much to you."

For a moment Cora thought the deva was being patronising, but she pressed on. "It might. Try me."

"Very well. My superiors told me to come here. They wanted me to warn someone that their hand was being guided by someone else with evil intentions, even though they wished to do good."

"Who was it?" asked Cora. "You never know, we might encounter them in future."

"Well..." the deva's face took on a rosier hue. "That's part of my difficulty. I don't actually know who I am meant to meet. I wasn't given their name, or even a description."

"You travelled all the way from the Celestial Realms to the Material Plane, without having any idea who you were meant to meet?" said Valen, who had evidently been listening in. He looked astonished.

"It does sound silly, when you put it like that," said the deva, abashed.

"I'm amazed that your superiors didn't give you more information than that," said Cora. "Either they were being irresponsible or inept."

"Well, I don't _think_ they mentioned the name - but they had a tendency to drone on at great length, on subjects which went completely over my head. That tends to happen all the time with gods, I fear."

"And they wonder why I am an unbeliever," muttered Valen.

"I suppose it's possible that I wasn't listening very hard," added the deva.

Cora was beginning to have serious doubts whether they should have Lavoera in their party at all - if she walked around in an oblivious state half the time, how would she fare once they had a real enemy to fight? It occurred to her that the deva might be wrong about her being a tiefling. She had failed to identify the races of both Tomi and Deekin.

"Lavoera, I was wondering...have you ever met any tieflings before now?"

"I saw a few when I was taken to Sigil for a brief visit. It was my first time away from home - such a dreadful, teeming, filthy place! The sky was so dim, compared with my home. Yet it was a beacon in comparison with this gloomy realm."

Cora noticed that Valen was watching the deva with a good deal of curiosity now, although he said nothing.

"There were more races than you can imagine within the city, but I was warned to be on my guard if there were creatures of the Lower Planes nearby, and that I would be able to sense their taint even if they were not immediately identifiable by sight. It happened when I saw demons, just as it did with people who looked relatively human. All of them radiated evil, although to a lesser extent with the tieflings."

"But I'm _not _evil," insisted Cora.

"Sorry," said Lavoera. "You have acted only with good intent towards me so far, and it confuses me. I wonder if I feel the potential for darkness within you, but you rise above it?"

"It's hard to rise above something when you didn't even know it was there a short while ago," said Cora. She knew that if she thought about such matters for too long, she'd get onto the subject of paladins again, and she didn't want to mull over that while she still had some more battles to fight.

_Not just because of my foster-father. Because of Patrick. Did he know what I was? Or did he react the way he did just because I was different?_

_No. Don't start thinking about him again. This isn't a good time for that. _

_It never is._

"Is something wrong?" asked Lavoera.

"No, I'm fine."

"Yet it's as if a cloud suddenly passed over your face. If I came across as rude, it wasn't my intention."

"I promise you, I wasn't offended."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, honestly! Forget it," Cora said, more brusquely than she intended. She walked ahead with a brisk stride. Deekin, who was near the front of the group for a change, kept pace with her. "Boss and the brave kobold leads the group into victory!"

"That's right, Deeks. We'll sort those vampires out, won't we?"

She stopped as she rounded the corner. Sodalis stood only a few steps away from her, baring his sharp teeth in a cruel parody of a smile.

Instead of casting a spell immediately, he began to tell her all about how Vix'thra would soon rule all the realms and how his priesthood would rule the lands.

_Arrogant swine._

Cora glanced sideways at Deekin. "Doom," she mouthed.

"Yes Boss, we is doomed," he said.

"Sing it!" she urged through gritted teeth. Ahead of her, she saw Sodalis raising his arms.

There was no time to waste. She leapt forward, closing the gap between them.

She was lucky. She managed to disrupt his spellcasting with a sword blow to the forearm, hard enough to sever an artery: as the blood sprayed out, her companions caught up with her and followed up with their own attacks.

It was over surprisingly quickly, compared to her other encounters with the vampire mage. While the others hurried towards the nearby sarcophagus to finish the job, Cora stood for a moment, catching her breath. _Tired. Again. Why did a couple of good sword swings take so much from me? _She had felt a strange sensation, as if energy was being sucked out of her as she hit the vampire's vein. As if she was paying some personal price for killing him.

"Something wrong?" asked Valen as he returned to her side.

"Not sure," she said. "I felt a little weak for a moment, but it's passing again now."

It wasn't the first time, she realised: it seemed to happen when she fought. She could feel full of energy, then suddenly it would be as if she were upstairs on that altar again. _As if my blood's being drained._

A disturbing thought struck her, and she spoke to the deva. "Could you tell whether someone was a vampire?"

"Of course. I've seen so many of the monks here, and I could sense their evil."

"Then...you could tell whether I became one, couldn't you? I'm a bit worried because Sodalis bit me earlier."

"Isn't being a tiefling enough for you?" said Tomi.

"The issue's muddied by the ev...I mean, sense of the Lower Planes I get from you," said Lavoera, "but no, I don't think you're a vampire. Perhaps you could show me your teeth just to be certain."

Cora bared them dutifully.

"You're fine. They're not pointed," Lavoera said cheerfully.

"You do realise that even if they were, some tieflings can have pointed teeth, don't you?" said Valen.

"Um...no, I didn't actually."

Cora was beginning to think that by tiefling standards, the attributes she viewed as abnormalities were in fact rather ordinary, even dull.

They began to prepare for what lay ahead of them: the next doorway was enormous, which either suggested that it was the centrepiece of the temple or that the space was needed to accommodate an extremely large being.

"Umm, Boss?"

Cora was getting apprehensive about Vix'thra, and she wanted to alleviate the feeling by fighting. "Yes Deekin, I'd like you to cast all the usual spells on as many of us as you can manage, then sing your bard song last. I'll give you the word when we're ready."

"That nots what Deekin wants to ask, Boss. Deekin picks up book about Vix - umm, evil dragon lich."

"We can have a proper look at it later - hang on - you said he was a dragon? I thought Vix'thra was a god."

Cora did not underestimate Deekin's usefulness, as many other people did. Yet every so often he would still surprise her, by noticing something that she overlooked. Besides all the information he had gleaned from his old Master, he liked to read every book he found, and he had a knack for remembering odd little facts at convenient moments. This was one of them.

"Maybes he be both, Boss, and lich as well. " said Deekin, flicking through the pages. "Book says that he be all of those things so we must bow down to him."

"Not much chance of me doing that, but it's worth knowing, especially the part about him being a lich."

"There be more. If he be lich, he gots to have a phyl - phyla - umm, thing he stores soul in."

"Phylactery?"

"Yes, that's what I just said, Boss. It probably somewhere in his room. If we breaks it, then he be easier to kill - but when he sees you heading for it, he going to gets very angry..."

"I doubt he will be very friendly in the first place. I suspect the real difficulty will be trying to find it while fending off an attack at the same time," said Valen.

"You know what you need, don'tcha? If there's any scouting to be done, Tomi's your man. I could go and have a look for it. I might even be able to break the thing, if there's time."

"You're sure you want to do this? On your own?"

"Don't worry love, the more dangerous it gets, the sneakier I am. You lot would only give the game away. Especially him, being all overgrown." He nodded over at Valen.

"I guess there must be some advantages to being so short in stature," Valen replied, smirking. "Hiding in corners must be one of them."

Tomi grunted in a way which indicated he wasn't overly pleased to have his comment thrown back at him, but he proceeded with his self-appointed task, merging himself with the shadows and slipping through the doorway.

Cora crept closer to the door. All was quiet: there was no sound of crackling flames or any other audible signs of a dragon's wrath. As she stood there, she felt a tug on her sleeve.

"Umm, Boss? Deekin forgets to say something."

She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Not now, Deeks. I'm trying to listen."

* * *

Tomi saw the dragon as soon as he went through the door - but did the dragon see him?

_Nah. The big bugger's got no idea. Just the way I like it. _

He edged around the walls, skirting around the back of two gigantic skeletons which lay on the floor, perfectly intact.

There was no sign of any phylactery yet, though Tomi could see a gap ahead leading to another room - and beyond that, gold. Huge, gleaming piles of it. He stopped just in time as he noticed the faint glow of the trap ahead of his hasty footsteps. After disabling three in a row, he tore his attention from the gold for long enough to notice an urn mounted on a plinth, flanked by two bone golems.

_That's it! Beats me why he'd leave it in such an obvious place, but I'm hardly gonna complain. _He stole another covetous glance back at the treasure. _No harm in taking a coin or two now I'm here. _

There were trapped chests as well, but Tomi knew that his shadow shape would not last forever, so he contented himself with picking up a couple of handfuls of the largest coins from the edge of the nearest pile, pocketing them in numerous hiding places in his armour.

_Time's running out, Tomi boy... _He gave the treasure one last longing look before approaching the phylactery. As he skirted the wall to his right, he noticed a hidden door, which would come in handy for a quick getaway. The golems hadn't spotted him yet, big hulking dumb things that they were, and he just happened to have some Alchemist's Fire on him. Just to make sure, he chucked three at once.

_Boom. _

It went off quicker than he'd hoped, and as he dived for the ground, he heard a throaty roar. Getting to his feet, he dashed for the doorway, not looking back to see whether the phylactery was smashed or not. As he emerged on the other side, he gazed into the furious bejewelled eyes of the dracolich, and all rational thought fled his mind.

* * *

"Boss, it be important."

Cora walked away from the door. "All right, what is it?"

"You needs to wear something to prevents fear if you go near dragon. Deekin nots know whether halfling had anything like that."

She sighed. "I can't believe I forgot about that. He'll be all right, won't he? I'm sure he would keep a good distance from Vix'thra. Knowing Tomi, he's probably found the dragon's treasure hoard by now." She was trying to convince herself as much as Deekin.

The group had a quick look through their belongings to ensure that they all had something protective. Valen was wearing a pair of boots which bestowed immunity to fear on the wearer, which he had picked up elsewhere in the Underdark. The deva pronounced herself immune to the blind panic a dragon could induce, "although he certainly makes me feel nervous."

Cora and Deekin were still searching through their own belongings when they heard a loud bang, shortly followed by a roar and a scream.

They exchanged glances. Cora immediately hurried to the door. "Deekin, sing for me!"

She felt a hand gripping her elbow, and she turned around to see Valen. "Are you equipped?"

"I've no time for that!" All the same, she reached into her bag. She thought she had seen a couple of Clarity potions in there. Although they only had a temporary effect, they were certainly better than nothing.

"I'll fetch him. Stay here," said Valen firmly.

"But -"

"Let me do this." He slipped past her, and ran inside.

_Great. Now I have two of them to worry about. _She felt a prickle of apprehension. "This is crazy. We should have just all gone in together in the first place."

"Don't worry about your man. He seems more than capable of looking after himself," said Lavoera brightly.

"Yes, but it's a dracolich we're talking about, not just any old enemy...wait, you called him my _man_? He's not - I mean, we're not..."

She heard Valen's battle cry, and her body stiffened. She was on the verge of ordering the others to go in when Valen pushed through the doorway, carrying a yelling, kicking, badly injured halfling over his shoulders.

"Got to run," he growled.

Cora only took one brief glimpse behind herself as she retreated. A magnificent, entirely malevolent dragon was squeezing his way through the doorway. He bellowed again, and even as she sprinted, she felt the searing heat from his breath at her back.

"To the right!" she shouted, leading the others in a wild dash across the great hall, towards the first set of rooms where they had rested. Behind them, she felt the air being whipped into gusts by the beating of the dragon's great wings.

_One door, two doors, three... _

They ran through doorways which were strictly human-sized.

They stopped, as far as they could go. "I see why you brought us here," said Valen. "He can't follow." He placed Tomi on the ground, but immediately grabbed him by the shoulders again as the wild-eyed halfling tried to escape in the wrong direction.

Lavoera cast a healing spell on Tomi, Deekin started to cast his enhancement spells and Cora brought out her potions of Clarity, ready for them to take. One for her and one for Tomi...or Deekin. She decided that the halfling would be better off with it, if he ever shook off his current state of terror, since his fighting style usually involved getting much closer to the enemy.

Outside, there was a thunderous crash: it sounded as if the dragon was trying to break through the first of the doorways.

"Oi, stop gripping me like that!" shouted Tomi. "We're not _that_ close, mate!"

Valen immediately let him go. "I didn't expect thanks. Just as well, since I didn't get any."

Cora handed a potion to Tomi. "Drink up, quick. Is the phylactery broken?"

"I bloody well hope so - but I had to dash, and the dragon blocked my path. I don't remember a thing after that."

"That's because you were running around in circles screaming," said Valen.

Another crash, and the walls shook: if they did not get out and fight, chances were that the enraged dragon would bring the temple down around their ears. Deekin began to sing of their doom: it seemed all too realistic at this stage.

"It's quite exciting, really!" said Lavoera as they went to meet the dragon halfway.

_This isn't a joke, _thought Cora_. _Yet she felt the old, familiar thrill rush through her veins as she saw the great beast. All she could see of him was his head and neck, which were poking through the entrance, but he was still a magnificent, if terrifying sight.

Her mind was sharpened by the potion she had just taken, and she hit hard and fast, aiming for the more vulnerable places such as his throat, for his eyes were out of her reach. The dragon's position meant that she could not dodge around him easily, and more than once she felt the sting of his spells or his fiery, acrid breath. The others were having the same difficulty in the enclosed space: they needed to dodge one another as well as the dragon's lunges.

Vix'thra withdrew his head abruptly, and Cora took her chance to run through the half-demolished doorway, where she would have more room to move around him. Vix'thra wheeled around again and charged at her.

She jumped sideways when he was almost upon her, and felt the violent aftershock of the dragon's impact on the wall nearby. If she had stayed where she was, she would have been crushed to death by now.

The dragon shrugged off rubble from his head as if shaking crumbs from a napkin, and turned his face to her, opening his jaws wide. Such sharp teeth, each one the size of a small dagger: they looked capable of beheading someone with a swift snap. He regarded her with contempt, even though the others were still attacking him from the side, as if he had all the time in the world. Playing with his food.

She felt as if her feet were glued to the spot as she stared at him. _We can't do this. _

"Fear not, Cora!" cried Lavoera, and Cora realised that she had almost succumbed, that time. The effects from the Clarity potion were weakening, gradually wearing off.

Vix'thra, jolted by a sudden hit from Lavoera's mace, cuffed her in response, and the deva was knocked to the ground. Before she could get up, the dragon turned his attention fully upon her, the great jaws snapping, and all she could do was scramble backwards, unable to right herself immediately. Valen dashed in front of the angel, putting himself directly in danger.

Cora forced her body to move, to act as if she wasn't afraid, and she called to Enserric in her mind. _I need an extra special hit now - come on!_

_You asked for it, _replied Enserric with a world-weary voice as she dashed towards the dragon.

She plunged the sword deep into the scaled, glittering flesh, heard his strangled cry of rage and pain. At the same time, if felt as if her own strength and health was being drained in turn. As the dragon's huge body collapsed, her world turned black, and she was the next to fall onto the marble floor.


	15. Chapter 15 Chivalry

_A/N - there's a small amount of vulgar language in this one. Blame Tomi._

* * *

**Chapter 15 - Chivalry**

Once the group left Drearing's Deep, Cora asked Valen to lead the party: they could not return the way they had come, but he knew the normal route. As they walked on in silence, Cora's thoughts kept returning to the man who walked in front of her. His tail swayed in his wake, giving her a constant reminder of his nature.

_In the absence of anyone else, he's my only measure of what it means to be a tiefling. I can't tell whether he's typical, but he's all I have._

The subject of her thoughts slowed his steps. "Take extra care with your footsteps here, Cora. The path's about to narrow ahead of us, and there's a sheer drop on the left."

She thanked him and passed the message on to the others trailing behind her.

It was another glimpse of the attentive, even gentlemanly side to him which had surfaced in Drearing's Deep. When she had fainted after killing the dragon, he had been at her side, his hands supporting her head: he had helped her to her feet while she was still feeling unsteady. When he behaved like that, she could forget what he was and simply appreciate him as a man who was strong and thoughtful, an asset to their small group. True, his manner had been suspicious and overbearing when she first met him, but he had begun to unbend a little on this trip. Now when he made a suggestion to her, it no longer sounded to her like an order forced out through gritted teeth, and she was far more inclined to take notice of him.

_I shouldn't forget that there's another side to him. When I witnessed it, I didn't like what I saw at all. _ She recalled their previous journey to Shaori's Fell, when she had seen him in the grip of a rage which seemed...

_Unholy._

At the time, she had the sense that he was possessed by an evil entity. _Was it something outside of him, or simply part of him? His taint, as he calls it? _

_I don't know that there will ever be the right time or place to ask about something like that. _

Yet a while later, as the path widened, she quickened her step so that she could walk by his side. He nodded at her in greeting, but said nothing.

"Valen...there's something I wanted to ask you, about the time when we were in Shaori's Fell. I don't mean to pry, so just tell me to shut up if you think I am asking too much of you."

He gave her a sideways glance. "It all depends what you wish to know. You haven't asked your question yet."

"I...wanted to know what happened to you...when we were in the Temple of Talona. When you killed the priest. I'm not saying you were wrong to do what you did, but...you changed. I don't know you very well so I could be wrong, but you didn't seem yourself. Not like you are now. Even your eyes changed colour, and I wondered what caused it to happen."

Although the path was now wide and relatively flat, he seemed to be paying extra attention to each footstep he took. When he looked back at her, she noticed a haunted look on his face.

"I'd rather not discuss what triggered my rage. It's quite...personal."

She felt disappointed. She felt as if there was a doorway between them, one that had begun to creak open recently: now it looked as if it would be closed in her face once more.

"I suppose it's not really my business what happened to you."

_As long as he never tries to kill me._

_As long as there's no danger of me becoming like him._

"No. It _is _your business, while we travel together. You saw what happens when the taint takes precedence. You said that I didn't seem like myself. Yet it is a part of me, all the same. Something I keep caged within myself, as much as I can."

"Caged? That doesn't sound entirely healthy."

"It's far better than the alternative. If I made no effort to exert self-control, I have no doubt that my demonic side would take over, whether it happened gradually or all at once. I would give in to my violent impulses. Don't assume that I would be discriminating enough to only pick on my known enemies. I would not be so easily sated."

"Would you kill me - even without a reason?" The question was a stark one: it hung in the air between them.

"I might," he said. "Although you might not be my very first target."

Cora wondered who the first target would be. Most likely it would be whoever irritated him the most. _Deekin? Lavoera? _She decided not to ask, especially with the chance that the others were listening as they trailed behind them.

"You didn't kill me in Shaori's Fell."

"No," he said, "Something stopped me, or you were lucky. I don't even know why."

"Do you think that it could happen again?"

"I can't predict anything, although it has been rare in recent times. I _have_ deliberately given my demonic side rein during our skirmishes with the Valsharess, but I made sure that I held onto some self-awareness. I can't promise the inner demon will never break free of my control again, though. It took me by surprise last time."

"You speak as if there are two separate people within you - the man and the demon. I don't feel like that, personally. There's no internal battle going on within me."

_No - but there's something more subtle than that, and it troubles me._

"You think that this means that you might not be a tiefling."

"I don't know...I'm starting to accept the possibility. I just can't connect my own experience to what happened to you."

_All I know is that the idea scares me. Most of all, I don't want to feel the same way. _

"I can only speak for myself. Another tiefling might tell you that their biggest struggle in life is with the prejudices of other people, rather than anything within themselves. Some other tieflings embrace their infernal side, untroubled by human notions of conscience. Some are like that from a young age, or change later in life, when they tire of their efforts to overcome their taint."

"But you don't give up," she said. "You're a good man." She meant it, she realised: it was more than a polite turn of phrase. She knew that she could be wrong. Their acquaintance was all too brief and not without conflict, but as far as she could tell, it was the truth.

She saw a smile forming on his face. "Good? I try to be...although it isn't always easy to achieve, or simple." The smile faded. "You would have a different opinion of me if you knew all of the things I've done in the past."

"It's what you do now that counts, surely," she answered. "Even paladins can fall. All you can do is to keep trying."

He looked thoughtful, as though he was asking himself a question, before speaking again. "There was a time in my life when...the demon within me had the upper hand completely. I forgot that there was any humanity left within me, as if it had burned away to ash long ago."

"But you're three-quarters human. How could you forget?"

"It happened during my time in the Blood Wars," he said.

She knew he had mentioned the wars before: it was obvious they were important to him. She tried to remember if her family had ever mentioned them, or whether Drogan would have done. The dwarf might have covered the subject in passing, but the details eluded her. She had never been a one for history lessons, preferring classes with a more immediate practical application. During Drogan's more academic lectures, she had too often sat towards the back of the class, exchanging silly notes with Dorna and allowing the words to drift past her.

"You don't know anything about the Blood Wars, do you?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. "I keep thinking I should have heard of them, but-"

"Umm, Boss?" Deekin's voice rang out loudly, making her realise how softly they had been talking.

_No, Deeks, not now! _

"Maybe we should leave this conversation for another time," said Valen. "We're nearly there now, and we all need some rest."

* * *

When Cora woke up, she noticed a warmth and pressure on her feet: as she looked down, she saw the sleeping form of the black cat. It seemed it had sneaked back into the room on her return to Lith My'athar.

"Look, you're not my cat and this isn't your bed," she said, shifting position. The cat stood up, yawned prodigiously then found itself another sleeping spot next to her legs.

Cora did not rise immediately, for the dream she had woken from still tugged at her memory. In her mind's eye she saw again the interior of a cool, stone building and the cold demeanour of the man who sat in front of her.

_I was back in the heart of the Order of the Watchful, having an audience with Sir Lennard. Why would I dream about him, of all people?_

The answer came to her almost immediately. Sir Lennard refused her request to become a squire, and she had never fully understood why.

_Before now. _

Amadei had always shown a certain ambivalence towards her ambition to follow in his footsteps. He had given her some basic training in the sword in her teenage years, and she showed an immediate aptitude, yet he seemed uneasy when she professed a desire to eventually become a paladin. He talked of the importance of feeling a genuine sense of calling from her God: of how it was not an easy path to walk for anyone. She had hoped he would put her forward to his superior so that she might train as a squire, but he had shown a marked reluctance. Finally, after the third or forth time that she pestered him, he told her that 'I have petitioned Sir Lennard on your behalf. He refused the request, and we must accept his decision with good grace.'

She did nothing of the kind. Without telling her foster-father of her intention, she went to the Order alone, and asked permission to speak with Sir Lennard. She was emboldened by the fact that he had known her since childhood: while he had always been rather distant to her, he had visited their home on several occasions.

The meeting had been brief. She still remembered the scene as clearly as if it had happened yesterday: the lingering scent of incense in the air, the uncomfortable carved oak seat. She had been politely deferential at the beginning, but Sir Lennard was as unyielding as the plate mail on his armour stand.

_"We look for a certain kind of person, a particular collection of traits, Miss Webber. You are ill-suited for our Order." _

_"But I don't understand. I pray regularly, I try to live by the tenets of the Vigilant One...I'm as good with a sword as any lad of my age, Sir. If I've overlooked anything important, please tell me, and I'll change, I promise."_

_"It is not just your deeds which govern this, nor your impeccable upbringing. It is your true nature, something you can neither help nor change. You are cut from the wrong cloth for this path, although you should be able to lead a moderately virtuous life if you maintain vigilance over your actions. You cannot be an exemplar of our God, however: it would be unfair to take you on as a squire, for you will never attain the rank of a paladin."_

With every crisply enunciated word her youthful fantasies deflated, and she forgot all notions of addressing him with the respect due to his status.

_"You talk about fairness, but what's fair about saying that I'm unsuitable, when you haven't even given me a chance to prove myself? If it takes years to become a paladin, how can you be so sure about me now? Oh, no - wait, I can guess what this is about. It's because I'm adopted, isn't it? I can't say who my real family were, and they might have been paupers or ne'er-do-wells for all I know. Cut from the wrong cloth, you say, or born on the wrong side of town? This sounds like snobbery to me, pure and simple!" _

He told her that she was ruled by her passions, and was demonstrating those traits abundantly while she argued with him: she countered that paladins must be passionate about their vocation, above all. He was immovable, and when a colleague interrupted with a message, he dismissed her from his sight.

_Apparently I had the wrong type of passions._

Looking back, she suspected that her race was no secret to Sir Lennard, and that his comment about her nature had been a subtle allusion to it._ If I quizzed him as to why he felt that way, instead of accusing him of being a snob, would he have told me?_ She didn't know.

The rejection, plus a chance letter from an old contact of her father, had led her to travel northwards, to Drogan's Academy. With time, she stopped viewing her stay there as a consolation for a lost opportunity. Her mentor honed her fledgling fighting skills to a level which surpassed her expectations, and she came to understand that she was on the right path after all.

Yet right now, she knew was that there was a void within her, a sense of loss, which had opened up when another man entirely had sat across a table from her and told her what he thought she was. The trouble was, she was more inclined to think that Valen was telling the whole truth.

It was time to pay another visit to the Seer.

* * *

"You knew...you knew all along?" said Cora.

_Well, she is a Seer. What did I expect?_

"There are some similarities between your aura and that of Valen's, save that his is more... damaged. Yes, I guessed you were a tiefling when we first met, in spite of your human appearance."

"Why didn't you mention it?"

"I assumed you were fully aware of it, and thought it was of little import. Besides, when someone refers to another person by their race alone, it comes across as rather impolite, don't you think? It is a habit among many drow that I am trying to discourage among my followers."

The matter seemed unimportant to everyone here except herself, Cora mused. If people were always going to react so mildly, then perhaps it was time for her to reassess her own prejudices.

"It looks like I'm the last one to know," she said. "I feel like an idiot right now."

"I wouldn't say that. You have much to learn about your heritage, but then it is fortunate that you are being escorted by someone who is well-placed to answer your questions."

"Yes, I suppose that's true. I wouldn't want to bend his ears about it, though."

"I doubt that he will mind." The priestess smiled slyly. "It is an opportunity for him to display his greater knowledge of a subject, after all."

Cora grinned. "Well, when you put it that way, I don't suppose he will object."

"Seriously, though, he should be willing to help you. I have the impression that any friction between you has lessened."

"It's better," Cora admitted. "Why, I haven't even had the urge to throttle him with his own flail recently." She reconsidered. "Well, I felt like it when he told me I was a tiefling, but not at all since then."

"That's good to hear. Actually, he seemed rather concerned about you, when he spoke with me earlier."

"Why?"

"He told me that you fell unconscious after your fight with the dragon, in spite of the fact that you had not lost much blood. He could not understand why."

"Yes...I was going to tell you about that too. I'm not sure what's causing it, but I've only noticed it when I fight. One moment I'm fine, but after I manage to make a couple of good hits on my enemy, I start feeling tired and giddy, even if I have no injuries at all. I should be getting fitter than ever, with all of the fighting I'm doing here, but the opposite is happening. I don't know if it's the lack of sunlight, or the Underdark diet doesn't agree with me... I feel fine right now, but I'm concerned it will come back again."

"Stand still, and I shall heal you." The Seer placed her cool, slim hands upon Cora's shoulders.

A faint tingling sensation washed over Cora: it was vaguely relaxing, but she did not feel any better once the priestess took her hands away.

The Seer looked thoughtful. "If you had any serious malady, I would have expected to feel the healing flowing towards a specific source, whether it is the cause or the symptom. When it diffuses throughout the body, it usually means that the patient is in robust health."

"Perhaps I was still recovering from being bitten by a vampire earlier. Chances are that I won't have any problems again."

"Maybe, but you cannot afford to take chances here. I can see we will not solve this by talking, however."

Cora took the words as her cue to leave. "You're right, Seer. I should find out where the others have got to, I suppose. Thank you for listening - and for the healing."

"I wasn't asking you to leave my company, although I think we should go out of this stuffy temple for a while. No, I think it's time I saw you in action."

* * *

Valen glanced over at the training grounds and instantly recognised Cora, who was sparring with a drow partner: only when he walked closer did he recognise who it was.

The Seer wore no armour, clothed only in a sheer gown - but then it was the Eilstraeean custom to wield weapons whilst naked during their ritual hunts. Still, he was glad to see that they were using wooden swords on this occasion.

"Are you getting tired?" asked the Seer.

"Not in the slightest," said Cora. "I'm not even getting warm."

It came as no surprise to Valen: he could see that Cora was not stretching herself at all. From the little he had seen, the Seer was woefully out of practice, and Cora was going easy on her. He wished that the Seer had taken the chance to train with him when he originally suggested it: she could have been so much better by now.

The Seer stopped and spoke to Cora: Valen did not catch her words but he saw an uncertain look upon Cora's face. She drew her sword from her scabbard, with its sinister dull red glow, while the Seer selected an iron bastard sword from the nearby rack.

Valen assumed they were going to work on their technique using one of the battered dummies at the side of the training grounds. Instead, they began to spar with one another, and Valen tensed up, only relaxing once he noticed that Cora was hardly trying to hit the Seer at all. She was aiming her blade thrusts directly toward her opponent's sword, the metal clashing as repetitively as Rizolvir's hammer in the nearby forge. In fact the exercise appeared pointless: all they were doing was blunting their weapons.

"You're not trying at all, are you?" cried the Seer, slightly breathless. "Don't hold back - try to land a hit on me!"

"Let's go back to wooden swords," said Cora. She sounded as uneasy as Valen felt.

"Not yet. Don't question: do as I say. Wound me!" The steely tone in her voice was a faint echo of the Matron Mother she could have been, although no Matron would have ever made such a request.

Cora's sword arced forward, and Valen did not think twice: he vaulted over the low barrier, drawing out Devil's Bane and running towards them.

As he reached them, he saw a thin line of crimson forming on the Seer's upper arm, no more than a flesh wound.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"She asked me to do it," Cora said with a guilty air, as if expecting his censure.

Yet he knew that she could have easily delivered a worse injury, even a fatal one. The cut she had given the Seer was beneath her capabilities: she must have been deliberately holding back.

"Were you about to attack me?" Cora asked.

_Was I? _He didn't even know. It was his job to keep the Seer safe, yet even Cora had awakened a protective reflex in him not very long ago, much to his own surprise.

"I acted on instinct." Feeling defensive, he turned the blame on her. "Don't you realise that we only use real swords against dummies? We _never _train with each other using real weapons - our numbers are too few to lose anyone by accident."

"How was I to know that?"

"It's simple common sense, Cora!"

"Both of you, be silent!" said the Seer, clearly irritated by their little exchange. She touched her wound, a look of deep concentration on her face. "It took something from me," she murmured to herself, and then she glanced at Cora. "Give me your sword."

Cora handed it to her without a word. The Seer's eyes widened when she took the hilt, but she said nothing. She pressed the flat of the blade against the cut, and remained silent for an interminable time.

Valen eyed Cora, who simply shrugged in response, as if to say _I have no idea what this is about, either._

Finally the Seer handed the sword back to Cora before healing herself. "Your sword is sentient."

"Oh, I know that," said Cora. "He talks to me when we're fighting. His name is Enserric the Grey."

"Were you also aware that Enserric steals the victim's life force, but also draws upon your own constitution in order to do that?"

"What?" Cora nearly dropped her sword, before sheathing it in her scabbard quickly. "I knew he was draining our enemies, but he didn't say he was doing the same to me!"

"No. He was equally reticent with me, until I pointed it out to him, and forced an admission. He claims that he did not notice it happening, initially. Make of that what you will."

She looked thunderstruck. "He's...been acting like a vampire?" She scowled down at the sheathed sword before saying "No, I don't see any difference. I don't want excuses - just shut up and get out of my mind!"

"There's an easy answer to this," said Valen. "Sell it. Or melt it down."

"Don't tempt me."

"I'm serious. You picked up another sword in the temple, didn't you?"

"I've already sold it," she said. "I also asked Rizolvir to put yet another enchantment on Enserric, fool that I am." Her shoulders heaved as she sighed. "I guess I can buy another one, if I have nothing else left in my room."

Valen looked around and realised that the Seer had slipped away while they were talking. In the distance he could see her walking back to the temple: Imloth had fallen into step with her. He turned back to Cora. "It's just as well that we found so much gold from Vixthra's hoard."

"You're right. It's only money," she said, but she still wore a downhearted expression.

"It's only a sword."

"Would you sell your flail?"

"Never," he said immediately. "Nor would I sell this armour, even if I found something more protective to wear."

She raised an eyebrow at him, playing him at his own game.

"Point taken," he said.

"Do those items bring you luck?"

"A little, perhaps. It's more that they hold memories for me, both good and bad. Did you have the sword for a long time?"

"Not at all," she said. "Found him in Undermountain. It's just..." She frowned, as if struggling to put what she felt into words. She unstrapped her scabbard, then placed it on the ground a few steps away. "I don't want to be overheard," she said quietly. "He was a man once. Trapped inside a sword for who knows how many years, sitting in a skeleton's hand gathering dust. I thought he must be lonely. So I brought him along with me, and he turned out to be the finest sword I've ever used. Last time we were out in the Underdark, I felt like there were five of us in our own little gang - and I don't mean Lavoera."

_Five. She sees me as part of it, even though I came along reluctantly, in order to keep an eye on her. _It was a strange feeling to him - whilst the drow here had more or less accepted him, it was born out of a mixture of fear of his demonic side and respect for the Seer. _ Don't take it as too much of a compliment_. _ Not when you consider the company she keeps. _

* * *

Tomi sauntered along, his hands in his pockets, while Deekin trailed along behind him. The kobold was driving him nuts. It was bad enough that he had ended up quartered with him, but worse still, the bard kept scratching away in that journal of his while he was trying to get some kip. "Deekin just finishes this next line," he kept saying. Now he insisted on accompanying him when he was trying to get a good look at the way this place was set up - and how secure the doors were. Just to keep in practice, of course.

_Once he finds Cora, he'll go back to following her around, with any luck..._

As if to prove his point, Deekin suddenly pointed his paw towards the training grounds. "Deekin be wondering where Boss gots to!"

Tomi noticed she was with Valen - deep in conversation, by the looks of it.

"Yous coming or not?" said Deekin, almost impatiently.

"All right, but I reckon we could be interrupting a cosy chat there."

"That nots likely," said the kobold. "Boss hates Goatman."

Tomi wasn't so sure. They seemed a bit narky with one another at times, but it didn't look anything like hate to him.

Deekin was so keen to rescue Cora from Valen's company that he walked slap bang into a drow male, nearly knocking him over.

Within the blink of an eye, the drow straddled Deekin and a rapier was at his throat.

"Kyorl dosst unboi, kuma iblith."

Deekin made a little croak of fright. "Umm... Deekin say sorry to drow man?"

Tomi kept his hands in his pockets, but a concealed dagger slipped into his hand whilst he silently called up a shadow behind the drow. The drow's eyes swivelled - oh, he had noticed, all right - but he did not change position.

"No need to get worked up, mate," he said. "Best drop that sword though. My shadowy friend gets all over-excited when he smells blood, and you're nearest."

The drow looked him up and down in a way that needed no translation. "You threaten me? Your kind only slaves here," he said in roughly-accented Common.

Tomi was about to respond in a far from polite manner when a drow lass in tight black leathers walked by. Distracting though her outfit was, Tomi was sure he'd seen her face before.

"Ferin dosst killian bauth, jaluk? Brou ol zhah ji inlul." She looked amused and contemptuous all at once - and Tomi suddenly remembered her. Nathyrra.

The man - who also looked vaguely familiar - pulled back with a reluctant sigh. Deekin immediately scurried away in the direction of his Boss, who was still talking in the distance, oblivious to what had just unfolded.

"That's better," Nathyrra said to the man, switching to Common. "I might have had to teach you a lesson, otherwise. After all, Mother Seer would be _far_ from pleased to learn that you have forgotten your manners with the Saviour's friends."

He inclined his head to Nathyrra, all wounded dignity and fake deference. "My apologies," he said to her.

"I won't make you apologise to the surfacers too - although I should. I'll deal with this now," she said in a clear tone of dismissal.

"Yeah, run along, tosser, and don't trip up on the way!" Tomi called after the drow as he walked away.

"Don't make things worse," Nathyrra said. "Tensions are running high here between the Seer's people and House Maeviir as it is. He's one of ours, but only converted recently, and I think some of his old House members have been giving him a hard time. He probably thinks he needs to prove that he is no weakling."

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for him," said Tomi.

"I won't," she said. "But be careful in this city... old habits die hard."

"What, like drow women being a touch on the dominant side, you mean?" Tomi said cheerfully.

Nathyrra's eyes narrowed at him, although the corners of her mouth twitched as if she was on the brink of smiling.

"Whatever else you do here, don't push your luck. Remember that."

* * *

_Kyorl dosst unboi, kuma iblith. Watch your step, kobold excrement._

_Ferin dosst killian bauth, jaluk? Brou ol zhah ji inlul. Waving your sword around, male? Pity it's so small._


	16. Chapter 16 Trial and Error

_A/N - Thanks for Prue, Kenchita and Adrienne Valentine for the reviews. As for the tail question, we'll just have to see..._

* * *

**Chapter 16 - Trial and Error**

Valen waited at the gates of Lith My'athar, impatient to leave. He had been haggling with Gulthrys over equipment, which never put him in the best of moods: finally they had agreed on a price for a Greater Amulet of Health which was a good third above what it should be. _And that was one of my better bargaining days. _

He stood with Deekin and Tomi: their leader was the last to arrive. He saw her hurrying along, looking slightly flustered.

"You're all so punctual," she said, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry I kept you waiting. I nearly forgot to let the cat out."

"Cat?"

She stared at him. "You have cats in the Underdark, don't you?"

"No." During his time on the surface, he had encountered the occasional feline: whilst hungry he had hunted and killed one for food. Later he learned that surfacers kept them for rodent control or companionship, and he realised that he had probably eaten someone's beloved pet, since there was a pink ribbon around its neck.

"Well, you have one now, because a cat keeps hanging around my room."

"I'll bet it's that moggy that came down with me from the sewers," said Tomi. "Black, is it?"

"As black as your armour."

"Yep, that's the one."

Valen changed the subject, preoccupied with other matters. "You're not carrying your sentient sword. Did you sell it?" The last time he had spoken to Cora, she had seemed quite reluctant to do so.

"No," she answered. "I couldn't quite bring myself to sell Enserric, even if I'm still annoyed with him. He's sulking in my room. The sword I have with me now isn't as deadly, but at least it's not harming me."

He reached into his pack, feeling for the curved ivory beads which vaguely resembled fangs. He held out the amulet to her, feeling unaccountably awkward as he did so. "I was told that this will prevent a life-stealing sword from draining the health of its owner."

At first she peered down at the offered necklet in the palm of his hand, a puzzled look upon her face.

"It's just like the one I..." Her voice trailed off. "I mean, it's just like an amulet I saw in a shop once." She took the amulet from him, donning it immediately. "That's a wonderful idea, Valen. Thanks for loaning it to me!"

"It's not on loan," he said. "You can keep it."

"Well, I must owe you some money - how much?"

"Forget it."

"You're sure?"

"Forget it," he repeated. How many more times was he going to have to impress it upon her?

"All right - but I'll find _some_ way to pay you back, whether you like it or not!" She grinned. "I've just got to get my sword back now - I won't be long. Here I go again!" She raced away, all haste and enthusiasm, reminding him of the deva, of all people.

"No-one ever gives Deekin presents."

"Ah well," said Tomi. "Just think of all the, er, _tension_ that you'll be able to write about, now that Valen's given Cora some jewellery."

"Tension? What yous talking about?" said the kobold.

_What indeed?_

Tomi glanced at Valen shiftily, then whispered something to the kobold, whose dog-like eyes grew round like saucers. "Ooo, Deekin not thinks of that. That be exactly what publisher wants."

"My only concern is keeping us all alive. We need to be well-equipped," Valen said, keen to squash any bizarre ideas they were having.

"Yeah, and I'll bet Cora likes a well-equipped kind of bloke," said Tomi. He chuckled to himself.

Valen made a show of ignoring the halfling, folding his arms: maybe he would shut up then. It didn't work: evidently he was in a conversational mood. _When isn't he?_

Tomi fidgeted with the neckline of his armour. "Talking of amulets, I can't find my own one anywhere." He began searching through what appeared to be an infinite number of pockets. "I swear I've lost the bloody thing - either that, or someone nicked it."

"I hope you're not suggesting I took it. _ I'm _the one who was robbed while buying it from the merchant."

"Nah, I'm not accusing you, mate, it's nothing like the one I had. But if you paid that much for it, you must _really _like her."

Valen gave him a look that could freeze the lava pits of Phlegethos, but Tomi continued unabashed.

"I just wonder where it's got to, that's all. It was given to me by the Hero of Neverwinter, when all of that sorry business was over and done with."

Valen had no idea what the 'sorry business' was, but it was clear that the kobold did.

"All the trouble they had with the paladin elf lady? Deekin read a book about it, but it be a slow read. It nots anywhere near as good as mine."

Valen couldn't even begin to imagine how much worse the other book could be, if Deekin's writing bore any relation to the way he spoke.

"I won't hear a bad word said about Miss Aribeth," Tomi said. "She made mistakes, and plenty of them, but it wasn't right, what happened to her." He sounded entirely serious for once. "I couldn't forgive Lord Nasher for that." He let out a forlorn sigh. "I've got to admit that she looked damned fetching when she painted her armour black, though."

Cora caught up with them, slightly breathless, with the sentient sword clasped in her hand. "Talking about girls again, are we?"

Tomi wiped away his glum expression and grinned at her. "Something like that. We off, then?"

* * *

Cora heard Valen's voice behind her.

"We should be nearing the pathway to the beholder tunnels, soon There's a bridge spanning a chasm that we need to cross."

"There is?" As she walked closer to the edge, all she could see was a wide, deep gorge with no apparent way over it. "Sure we're in the right place?"

"Certain," said Valen, frowning as he looked into the murky darkness beyond. "The bridge was here a few days ago, I know it. The beholders must have tampered with it... or someone else has."

Looking across the chasm, Cora could see a series of rectangular platforms, spaced far apart from one another. No-one could jump between them, and she was reluctant to ask Deekin to try flying across. He was not yet well-practised with his wings, and she could not be certain what was lurking on the other side.

"'Eh, what's this?" said Tomi. "Reckon it's some kind of control for the bridge?"

Cora hurried over to look at the short pillar Tomi was standing by. It was topped by a line of switches, all of which had a pair of words inscribed by the side of them. She beckoned to Valen.

"Do you understand this?"

"Notice to Cora: do not touch."

"Ha ha. What does it really say?"

"All I know is that it's not Common, Drow or Abyssal. Perhaps it is the language of the beholders, but I cannot understand it. I would still suggest that you avoid tinkering with something you don't understand, though."

She immediately jabbed at a random switch. With a groaning noise, one of the platforms shifted leftwards, hitting a distant cliff face with a deafening clunk.

"You couldn't resist, could you?"

"Nope. You should have seen the look on your face, though."

"I just hope you haven't just signalled your presence to whoever might be lurking on the other side. It would be better not to have a welcoming party when we get there."

"Well, if we don't do something about this bridge, we'll have to change our plans and go elsewhere. I found my way through Halaster's maze, and I had to rely completely on trial and error there."

She thought Valen would walk away, but he remained by her side, paying keen attention to the switches she flipped and the corresponding movements the platforms made.

"I was so sure it was going to move rightwards this time," she grumbled as a platform shifted further away from her.

"Look again at the second column of words," said Valen, poring over the panel. "I'm starting to wonder whether they correspond to right and left."

After that, it was easy work, with both of them pressing buttons in turn. It was turning into something of a competition about who could move the fastest, and Cora laughed as she beat him to one of the switches, her hand edging past his just in time.

Behind her, Cora heard Tomi speak. "See what I mean about tension?"

She looked around to see him nudging Deekin, who immediately reached for his journal. She couldn't understand Tomi's meaning: she didn't feel especially tense right now. She heard a low rumbling sound and looked back to see the final platform moving into line.

For someone who had never wanted to experiment with the switches in the first place, Valen had a remarkably smug look on his face.

"Hey, you could have waited! Not fair."

They hurried across the bridge, mindful of the possibility that there could be a similar mechanism on the other side. Thankfully, the area was free of enemies.

It was equally empty as they walked through an archway: almost too tranquil, Cora thought.

Valen must have been thinking along similar lines, for he laid a hand on her arm, and leaned close to speak to her. "Usually it's difficult to walk more than a few paces around here without encountering some creature or another. I wonder if someone else has passed through here recently?"

She stopped for a moment, bending down to whisper to Deekin. "Want to cast a few spells on us? Silently, though. Just in case there's trouble ahead."

Once Deekin finished spellcasting, they carefully walked forward, but all of their precautions could not alter the fact that Tomi was the only true expert in stealth among their group, and their progress was not entirely silent. Ahead of them, a voice called out of the darkness.

"Dos paken verve z'lonzic, wael -" the drow said as he strode towards them. Cora did not know what he had just said, but the surprised look in the drow's violet eyes were quickly masked by a more calculating expression.

"Vel'uss zhahen dos feithin whol?" answered Valen, equally incomprehensibly. Tomi had been standing right next to Valen but now there was no sign of him. Cora hoped he had shifted into a shadowy form before the drow party spotted him.

The stranger ignored Valen, turning his attention to Cora. "So, what have we here? No, don't tell me - I can guess," he said, speaking in Common for her. "The one who made a nuisance of herself in Undermountain. You're supposed to be the Seer's last hope, I gather?" His accent did nothing to conceal the distinctly patronising tone.

She knew his type. There were enemies who attacked on sight, and there were others who would talk her ears off first, in order to impress her with their vast superiority. She was convinced that he fell into the latter category: between his rather flashy armour and his manner, he appeared to have a high opinion of himself. She hoped her companions were sizing up the party in front of them and judging who to pick off first, although it was inevitable that the drow group would be doing the same.

"I prefer proper introductions," she said. "Let's start from there, shall we? My name is Cora, and you are...?"

"I am Eldath Ra'sin," he said. "I suppose it does no harm to tell you my name, before-" He leapt forward unexpectedly, and it was only after he had already lunged at her that he finished his sentence. "-you die."

Cora had to parry, already wrong-footed, whilst magic missiles rained down upon her. She heard the others leaping into action, but she could not afford to divert her attention from Eldath. She was quick, but he was faster still, using two swords where she only wielded one. He was moving forwards incessantly as he fought, while she was forced backwards, step by step.

"Cora, mind the drop!" yelled Valen. Just in time she danced rightwards, out of Eldath's path, and followed up with a sideways slash. Valen simultaneously landed a hit with his flail on the assassin's back, who staggered under the force of the two blows. With one misstep he stumbled over the pathway's edge: Cora heard a scream followed by silence.

She took a quick look around. She could see a few prone figures on the floor, and none of them were her friends. Deekin was already beginning to search the bodies, and a shadow-clad Tomi was standing nearby.

"Whew," she said. "I badly misjudged him - I really thought he was going to be more of a talker."

"Pity he fell, though," said the shadow with Tomi's accent. "His armour looked like it was worth a few bob."

"It reminds me of when I fought against the great pit fiend, Arauchor." said Valen. He used his power to open a chasm to separate us from him, then laughed that he would never be defeated... right before he slipped and fell in."

Just as Valen finished speaking, an arrow whistled past Cora's head, causing her to unbalance and nearly make the same error. She hurried away from the perilously narrow pathway, but even as she reached the last lurking drow, a crossbow bolt hit him straight between the eyes. Deekin's aim was improving.

After they established that there were no more enemies hiding in the shadows, they resumed the task of collecting any useful items they could salvage. Valen found a rolled up note concealed among a small bundle of spell scrolls, which he read out for the benefit of the others:

"I expect you to succeed where Sabal so miserably failed. Disappoint me in this regard and there will be serious consequences."

"Sabal, Sabal... wasn't that the drow who kept attacking us in Shaori's Fell?"

"I think so."

"She said someone else would kill me, if she didn't succeed. Maybe they were lying in wait for us."

"Maybe... we'd best stay cautious."

* * *

Cora couldn't shake the feeling they they had gone in the wrong direction. They had been searching for the Eye Tyrant within the winding labyrinth of beholder tunnels, and had a choice of proceeding straight on or going downstairs: the latter had been her own decision. They had encountered no beholders at all in this area yet, only several nests of giant spiders.

_Best see what else is in here, even if this area feels...wrong. _

There was something odd about the atmosphere here, with air that felt unusually still and lifeless. She shivered involuntarily, as if someone had just walked over her grave.

"Scared of spiders? Valen said,.

"Me?" She walked past one of the arachnids they had recently killed, and deliberately stamped on one of the eight legs sticking in the air. It made a rather satisfying crunch. "No, if there's one thing that gives me the shudders, it's slugs. Horrible slimy things. Don't tell me that there are giant versions of those in the Underdark."

"Slugs? Around every corner. I'm astonished that you haven't encountered any yet." The smirk on his face gave the game away.

"You don't fool me," she said. "How about you? What scares you?"

"Me? Nothing at all."

_Of course not, Mister Tough. _

"Everyone's scared of something," she persisted. "Even if they overcome it."

"Perhaps," he said, non-committal, but a short while later Cora noticed a troubled look pass over Valen's face as if he was recalling something. She would have asked, if it had not been for Deekin's sudden tug at her sleeve.

"Umm, Boss? Deekin be thinking this area feels funny...dead maybes. Deekin not likes it at all."

"I know what you mean. I feel odd too, as if something has leached away from me. I feel weaker than I did before."

"Is your sword causing problems again?" asked Valen.

"I sincerely hope not."

_Surely you're not going to believe him? _asked the sword.

_Why not? You didn't tell me the truth earlier._

_Now, now, I was unaware of the problem at first, and a battle with a dragon is not the best time to bring up the subject. If you can bear to cast aside your lingering suspicions, I shall tell you what I believe is wrong. Even I am suffering ill effects, for the Weave is absent here. All the enchantments upon me are suppressed, making me - and I truly hate to say this - rather mediocre at present. I should imagine that the same principle will apply to every enchanted item that you possess_

Cora looked up, seeing her companions watching her. "Enserric says it's the Weave. It's disappeared."

* * *

Valen had a disdain for spellcasting, but even he had to admit that he was not immune to the effects of the dead magic area. Devil's Bane could not deal as much damage, and his armour, however beautifully constructed, was weakened by the loss of its strengthening charms. The lurking groups of spiders posed little difficulty even while using mundane weapons, but he had a feeling that something else lurked within the network of tunnels which was far more powerful. His intuition usually served him well.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the halfling. "I can't pick this bleedin' lock - fancy bashing it?"

Valen tried to break it down, but the metal door would not budge, no matter how hard he rammed his shoulders against it or how accurately he aimed his flail at the lock. "By the pits of hell!"

"Hang on, there's some kind of mechanism here," said Cora, leaning over a contraption in the corner. "Maybe this is the only way of opening the door. Let's see how this works... If I tap here and here... Ouch!"

With a dull thud followed by a hiss, the contraption imploded. There was a stench in the air not dissimilar to singed hair, and Valen suspected some of it was Cora's own. She wiped a smudge of soot from her cheek, revealing a red mark beneath, but otherwise she appeared unhurt.

"Whaddya do that for?" said Tomi.

"Well, a little bit of experimentation worked on the bridge on the way here, didn't it? I wasn't to know that this thing was going to blow up in my face!"

Valen aimed a kick at the door, hoping that the mechanism's destruction had weakened it, but it remained as firmly shut as if it had been welded into place.

They backtracked, eventually reaching a turning they had bypassed earlier. They were seeking out a place in the ruins that contained some kind of magical pillar: they had found a rune stone earlier which had been scrawled with translated notes alluding to it. It seemed that the pillar was the key to making the Weave flow once more. Cora was carrying the stone with her, and every so often, she would stop to pore over it.

"You know, I think these scratches on the base might be some kind of rough map." Cora said, turning the stone around in her hands. "There's a big X marked over here with four groups of runes forming a cross - and that right angle is like the turning we've just passed. If I'm not mistaken, we only need to walk through one more large room, and we should reach our goal."

They passed by the bloated corpse of a beholder, and Valen felt the urge to caution Cora. "I don't like the look of this. We need to take extra care here."

"Why? It's not going to harm us in that condition. You know what they say - the only good beholder is a dead beholder!"

Valen sighed. He knew Cora was intelligent enough, but sometimes she failed to think everything through to its logical conclusion. "If it's dead and appears to have wounds, something more powerful must be preying on it." Up ahead, he could see more lifeless beholders, their fearsome eyes dulled.

"Maybe they're susceptible to spider venom-" She stopped, so abruptly that Valen nearly slammed into her.

Looking past her shoulders, he saw the looming shadow of an arachnid larger than any they had encountered. Even without seeing the whole creature, his demonic senses told him that it was a bebelith.

"What _is_ that thing? The granddaddy of them all?"

"It's a bebelith - a demonic spider. They are not to be taken lightly, especially with weak equipment."

"He hasn't seen us yet and it's a huge room," Cora said quietly. "If I stick close to the walls, maybe I can sneak past to get to the room with the pillar..."

"Cora, stop!" he hissed, alarmed, but she was already walking ahead, as quietly as she could manage.

Valen knew that evasion would not be sufficient for Cora. She could not know that the bebeliths hunted other demonkin, nor that a young tiefling female would be considered a succulent delicacy. Even if the bebelith failed to see her, it would be able to sense her blood.

* * *

_Dos paken verve z'lonzic, wael__ You took long enough, fool._

_Vel'uss zhahen dos feithin whol? Who were you waiting for?_


	17. Chapter 17 Blood

**Chapter 17 - Blood**

Cora was starting to regret her rash decision. It would have been more prudent to send Tomi out here in shadow form, but she had acted in haste instead. _Halfway across now. There's no point in losing my nerve. _She edged forward, her shoulder brushing against the wall: she was aware of every creak of her armour, every soft footfall.

_Just a few more steps now. _She could see a gap in the wall ahead of her, and she guessed that was the passageway leading to the pillar room, just as it was portrayed on her rudimentary map.

She stole a look at the bebelith. It was easily the height of a shire horse. She had told Valen she was unafraid of spiders, a statement which usually held true, but this one sparked an instinctive dread in the pit of her stomach. Worse still, she couldn't shake the feeling that it had seen her and its stillness was only a ploy. Firmly fixing her gaze to the wall opposite her, she kept edging forward, one careful step after another.

She jumped as she heard a chittering sound. The bebelith scuttled towards her at unnerving speed before attacking her. Its enormous maw opened and closed in a continual chewing motion as it stabbed at her with its clawed forelegs.

_Give me more! _she cried inwardly to Enserric. She tried to stab the monster in the eyes, but it shrugged the attack off as if she was prodding it with a wooden spoon.

_Without the Weave there's nothing left to give! _ Even the sword sounded panicky. A shiny black leg swept under her ankles, tripping her up, and she fell to her knees.

"Run to the pillar room!" Valen was there with her, diverting the arachnid's attention by running in its path and beating it furiously with his flail.

She struggled to her feet, thinking it better to help Valen take down the beast, but as he spun around to make his whirlwind attack, she saw his eyes glowing like sparks of lava. "Go!" he snarled, and she ran, along a winding hallway to the next room, feeling guilty and afraid for him.

No-one was there - at least luck was on her side in that way. The pillar had four sets of four runes arrayed around it. _ What next?_ _Quick, stupid! Think!_

She stepped on one rune which differed from its neighbours, and as its shape changed to match the others, a stream of light ran along them to hit the pillar's side.

_Matching? Is that it? Oh Gods, I'm not sure! _

She tried at the next row, desperately hoping that something, anything would work. She could still hear the alien screeches of the spider-beast and Valen's growling: she couldn't let him down. As another row lit up, she sighed with relief: now she knew what to do. With shaking hands, she tapped at the remaining two rows.

As the pillar began to pulse, the Weave coursed through her body, making her hands and feet tingle. She raced back along the hallway at a pace she could never have achieved without enchanted boots.

Even then, she arrived too late.

Valen was held fast in the bebelith's jaws while Tomi and Deekin were trying to attack it from behind. She saw a piece of the Weapon Master's fine green armour falling to the ground like a cracked nutshell. She raced to the creature's side, stabbing deep into its abdomen: she felt a tugging sensation along her forearm as Enserric stole some of its life force.

_Foul-tasting thing - hit it again!_

She did as he said, over and over, black blood spraying from its pierced carapace. Tomi and Deekin both moved in for the kill with her, their weapons now fully effective. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the bebelith had dropped Valen.

As soon as the arachnid slumped, she ran to Valen's side. He was trying to sit up, breathing hard with great shuddering expulsions of air.

She looked into his eyes: they were changing before her, the fiery heat dulling, fading away until they cooled to blue.

"Are you all right?"

"I...I'm under control," he said, his breathing still ragged. He did not seem to notice that his own blood was painting his ripped armour.

"I meant your injuries."

"Don't worry, I'm fine," he said, but she knew he was not: she saw him wince as he struggled to stand up.

"Stay there. Let me have a look at you."

"I said I was fine."

"No. You're in a mess and if anything else turns up here, you won't have a chance. Let someone else help _you _for a change. Besides, it's my fault you were hurt."

The look on his face said he was only doing this under duress. "Very well - if you must."

"I must. Indulge me." She called to Deekin. "Over here, Deeks - could you heal Valen?"

"Sorry, Boss. Deekin cast a couple of spells during fight and nots have any more."

Cora circled around Valen. The worst damage seemed to be at the back where a couple of the tears in the metal bent inwards. She was concerned that he might have been stabbed by his own armour.

"Do you think you could unbuckle your breastplate? It's hard to see what's going on. Do it slowly, though."

Valen did as she asked, and taking great care, Cora lifted the back of the broken armour away. Thankfully, although the mithril had gouged his skin, it still protected him somewhat when the foul creature's jaws clamped on him. The thin undershirt he was wearing underneath was torn and stained, but there was not so much blood spilled that she feared for his life.

Valen looked down at a fragment of twisted mithril, grimacing. "Ruined. The drow gave me this after I pulled the rebel army back from certain defeat. I never wanted to sell this armour, but no-one would have any use for it now."

Feeling somewhat awkward, Cora said, "Could you remove the under layer as well?"

"Is this really going to take so long?" said Valen.

"The last thing we need is you getting some kind of infection."

"Any excuse," said Tomi.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Valen, turning to give Tomi a hard stare.

"Let's put it this way," said Tomi. "I've never noticed Cora asking Deekin to strip off so she can dress his wounds. You haven't asked poor old Tomi either."

"You haven't known me for a very long time," said Cora. You wouldn't know what I normally do."

"It's true, though, Boss. You never asks Deekin to take off his armour."

"I don't recall any bebiliths trying to chew you up before, Deeks."

"Deekin be very good at keeping out of trouble," the kobold said proudly.

"And even better at avoiding hitting anything," said Valen.

"Hey, Deekin hit giant spider thing just now!"

Cora couldn't help smiling, but she needed to get on with the job rather than trade quips, and the others were distracting her. "Could the two of you have a bit of a scout around, see if there's anything worth taking from the pillar room?"

"Boo-oosss, can't you just send the halfling?"

"Nope. You need to watch out for each other."

"Come on," said Tomi. "D'ya notice how bossy your Boss is getting? It's hanging around those drow women that does it. When they want to be alone with a half-naked bloke, they're not going to take no for an answer, are they?"

Valen glared at Tomi. "Go."

"All right, all right, keep ya knickers on!"

As they left the room, Valen spoke to Cora. "How do you put up with him?"

"Honestly, sometimes I wonder why myself." Cora could feel a warmth beginning to bloom on her cheeks, and she looked away for a moment. When she looked back, Valen was stripping off the remaining layer.

What she saw shocked her enough to forget any notions of shyness.

His back was every inch as well-muscled as she could have imagined, but her overwhelming impression was how scarred he was. She would never have guessed, to look at his face: while he had a few nicks, the worst damage was hidden beneath clothes. The fresh wounds on his back were only the latest in a network which painted tracks across his skin. Some were undoubtedly battle scars, but there were also horizontal welts which reminded her of a time when she had seen a felon being flogged. Her gaze kept being drawn back to a series of puckered, indented marks spanning his shoulder blades. Instinctively she understood that the marks formed a word or a name, and the sight chilled her.

There was something familiar to her about the markings, but she did not know where from.

She collected her thoughts, considering what she needed to do: her first priority was to soak up any excess blood, hopefully cleaning the wounds rather than making them dirtier. Her cloak had picked up smears of grease from the tunnels upstairs, so she took it off and set it aside before looking through her pack. Her fingers brushed against a small, slippery object, and even before she took it out she knew that it was the gem-encrusted yet worthless relic she had once picked up in the Shadow Plane.

_I threw this away in Waterdeep. I know I did._

She remembered throwing it overboard in the docks. It had landed in the dark water with a splash, but against all reason, here it was again. She took the relic out, flinging it into a web in the corner of the room. With any luck it would stick there. She returned to her search: she had more important priorities than wondering why a piece of vaguely repellent junk kept following her around. She found a roll of clean fabric which was the remnant of a worn-out dress that she had torn into bandage material, a waterskin and her jar of ointment. Now she could get to work.

She knelt down, blotting Valen's wounds. "I'll apply some healing salve once I've mopped you up. It will sting, but you won't get infected after using it."

"This is more than I would normally expect. I rarely treat my injuries, unless I'm either bleeding to death or close to camp."

_It shows. _ "You're going to now, whether you like it or not."

"Hmm...I think the halfling may have had a point about the bossiness." At least he seemed to be in good spirits.

Not wishing to claw him, she spread the ointment with the palm of her hand, applying it with slow, careful sweeps. He made an exemplary patient: he sat still and did not flinch at all, though she knew that the stinging must have been considerable.

"It's not as bad as I thought it could be - the metal didn't bite too deep." said Cora.

_I shouldn't say it... it's tactless. But then, it's obvious that I would have noticed. _"There are so many old scars, though: it looks like you've really been in the wars."

He gave a short, humourless bark of a laugh. "You could say that. They are souvenirs of my time in the Abyss and the Blood Wars."

"I'd like to hear about it... if you don't mind telling."

"It's not a noble tale, but you should know about it. Some of your ancestors must have fought in the wars."

"Mine? How can you be so sure?"

"It is an age old war between the Tanar'ri and Baatezu - demons and devils. It is both futile and never-ending. No-one remembers how it began, but no-one can conceive of stopping it. I fought in countless battles over many years."

"If you thought it was futile, why did you go to war?" She had the feeling that it was a stupid question, but she had to ask anyway. Perhaps he had youthful ideals which were destroyed by the reality of war.

"It was never my intent. I was an orphaned street thief: there were many of us running around the area of Sigil that we call the Hive. One day I was following a mark, and I failed to notice that a demon was sizing me up. Grimash't must have seen potential in me, because of my Tanar'ri blood and the fact that I was strong for my years... I must have been around thirteen or fourteen. He grabbed me and took me through a portal to his lair in the Abyss. From that day onward I was his slave, forced to fight in his army."

"I'm sorry. It must have been tough, especially at that age." Her hands stilled on his back.

"It was. You tend to grow up quickly in the Hive, and I thought I had already seen everything. I was wrong. Yet somehow I survived, and instinct began to take over, as the demonic part of me responded to the fights against the Baatezu hordes. It was a side of me that my master encouraged, whilst all of my human thoughts and emotions were viciously suppressed. Over time I became battle-hardened, until nothing mattered to me save for the next chance to kill. I could have been with Grimash't for some twenty years or longer, but I don't even know: my recollections run into one another, and there are many gaps. There was nothing about me which was human, or so it felt at the time."

Cora was twenty-two years old. She tried to imagine the whole span of her life spent in slavery, becoming more brutalised as time passed. "How did you regain your human side?"

"I met the Seer," he said, as if those few words explained everything.

She didn't understand the connection. "Did she take part in the Blood Wars too?"

"No. I came to her, purely by chance. I was summoned to the Underdark by one of the Seer's enemies during a battle. Eventually, I came face to face with the Seer. You have sparred with her: you know her limitations. It would have been easy enough for me to end her life - I would not have needed my flail, just my bare hands to snap her neck. Yet all she did was look at me, and I could not touch her."

"Did she use some kind of magic on you?"

"Not the kind that I distrust. She gazed at me in a way that no-one else ever had before, as if she could see everything within me, yet there was no disgust or fear in her eyes. Somehow... the dormant part of me, the human side, woke up as if from a long sleep. We stared at one another as if nothing else was happening, until the summoning spell wore off. I was pulled back to the Abyss, but everything had changed for me. I began to remember how I used to think and feel - and I hated what I had become."

Cora realised that she had abandoned her task. She took the last scraping from her jar and began to spread it on one of the wounds she had missed, skimming the area where the strange word was written on his flesh. "So you ran away?"

"Not immediately. I tried to pretend that nothing had happened, because I needed to find a portal out of the Abyss before I could make my move. It became... complicated. Either I was not as devious as I hoped or Grimash't could sense that his prize warrior was chafing against his leash. He locked me up in a cage, and that was when the tortures began. I...I don't know how long I was in there... it could have been up to a year."

Behind him as she was, Cora could not see his face: she knew from his faltering speech and the way his muscles tensed that it was not easy for him to relate this, even now. She looked again at the markings on his back, and guessed that he had been branded like a rothe beast: most likely that was the least of his suffering. Sorrow and anger mingled within her: she could not show pity, knowing that it was damaging for his pride even to speak of this. She laid her hand upon his shoulder, speaking to him in a voice that to her ears sounded newly low and earnest.

"If Grimash't ever follows you here, I'll fight by your side. That's a promise, so hold me to it."

He laughed, an unexpected sound after the miseries he had spoken of, and he lifted up his left hand to cover hers. His fingers were work-roughened and unusually warm to the touch. "Your help is not needed, but I thank you for the offer all the same. After I managed to escape, Grimash't came after me... alone. It was then that I discovered that my skill at killing devils also applied to demons."

"I'm glad of it. Glad that he's gone."

"So am I." He gave her fingers one last squeeze before taking his hand away.

Cora might have hugged him, very carefully, if it were not for the fact that her clothes would dirty the wounds she had just spent time cleaning. She was also unsure how he would take the gesture.

"Let me just dress this for you, and I'll be done. It might be a good idea for us to stand up for this."

She busied herself rolling out the bandage and wrapped it around him as best she could. He lifted his arms for her, and she inhaled the sharp aroma of his sweat: fresh as it was, she did not find it at all unpleasant.

"So... after you left, you went looking for the Seer?"

"Yes. I needed to find her again - needed to know what she had done to me, and how I could live with this knowledge... this..."

_Guilt, _Cora thought, but she did not voice it.

"I found my way to the surface of your world. It was an alien place to me, but from there, I started to seek out ways into the Underdark. Eventually I heard of a tunnel, not from Waterdeep but further afield. Even then, the sheer size of the Underdark meant that it took a while to find her. You can imagine that her guards did not want a blood-spattered tiefling going anywhere near her, but she insisted upon seeing me. She spoke with me... she healed me, in every way possible."

Cora guessed that the healing was nothing like the vaguely pleasant sensation she had felt when she stood in the temple with the Seer. He would have needed something greater than the dressing of injuries: a more profound mending of the mind, of the soul. She doubted very much that he was talking of a single occasion when the Seer healed him: she did not know whether he would have even been fully sane at that point.

_Are you completely recovered, even now? Could you ever be?_

He turned to face her, and said "I was dead inside before I came here: I walked and talked like any other man, but I was not whole. Because of that, I owe everything to the Seer. Perhaps now you can understand why I would never betray her - or allow her to be betrayed."

His penetrating gaze settled on Cora as he spoke of betrayal, and she felt a crushing sense of disappointment. He had confided in her, and because of that, she had thought that he had begun to trust her.

She spoke to him with an intensity in her voice that equalled his own. "I'm not going to betray the Seer, Valen: you _have_ to believe me." Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Please."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw accusations at you. I simply wished to explain..." His mouth twisted in a grimace. "At any rate, I have probably said enough."

0-0-0

As soon as Valen stopped speaking, the kobold and halfling walked into the room.

He eyed them, wondering how much they had overheard, but they said nothing. He had never even planned to tell Cora as much: he had thought to give her a brief factual explanation, nothing more. Instead it had turned into an outpouring of a past he wished he could expunge for good.

They decided that it would be a good idea to take a short rest in the room before resuming their search for the Eye Tyrant. Although it was Cora's turn to stay on watch, it took a while before Valen drifted into sleep. He was thinking of what had been said between them. He glanced over at her more than once, noticing her pensive expression: when she looked back at him, he feigned a yawn and closed his eyes.

_Am I going to bare my soul every time a woman lays gentle hands upon me? Whether as a lover like Imogen, a healer like the Seer or a..._

He was not ready to call Cora a friend, not yet, but she had listened to him as faithfully as one would.

_And what did I do for her in return? I brought up the subject of betrayal again. _

It was an old refrain, worn into a groove through repeated use. No, he could not entirely let go of doubt: that would be foolhardy on such a short acquaintance, when the Seer's life was in constant jeopardy. Yet something had changed between himself and Cora, and was changing still. If it was not yet complete trust he felt, it was something which at least walked in that direction, with slow, cautious steps. He knew that a part of him desperately wanted to let go of his suspicions, and that was the very reason why he needed to be careful.

0-0-0

The Seer waited as one of her guards, Malagdrin, approached her. She observed that he looked apprehensive, but then he was only a recent convert to Eilistraee's worship. He had an exaggerated deference around her that she found wearing. She expected respect, but not to such a degree, because it reminded her of the old times before she had become a convert to her faith.

"I beg your pardon, Mother Seer - but may I speak with you for a short while? I promise you, I will not keep you long: I simply need to express a matter of concern - and make an admission."

"Go on, I'm listening," she said, smiling to put him at his ease.

"Mother Seer - could our conversation take place somewhere more secluded?"

His eyes darted around nervously, but she had recently promised Valen that she would not have an audience with anyone in complete privacy, and that there would always be at least two people present. She doubted that the Weapon Master ever considered that the venerable Seer might wish to have a love life. His protectiveness amused and exasperated her in equal measure, but she knew he was right: there had been too many assassination attempts for her to take risks any more. In addition, there was something about this male which rubbed her the wrong way. She would always talk to someone who professed their devotion to the Dark Maiden, but still...

"We can talk in here," she said. "No-one else is paying any attention, but if you still have concerns about eavesdroppers, speak softly."

Momentarily, he looked displeased, but the scowl was swiftly masked, replaced with a meek smile.

"Very well, Mother Seer. It is about the last time I was on guard, after you had retired to your private rooms to enter into your Reverie. It was before the Danuxyrr and her companions left town. I was stationed outside your chambers with one other guard. I fear you will punish me for this, but it is important that I tell you. I, ah, needed to relieve myself urgently, so I slipped away from my post, just for a moment. There was another guard there, and I thought it would be fine. I did not take long at all, but still...when I returned, I noticed one of the Danuxyyr's comrades nearby. He was sneaking away, as if he had some reason not to be seen. When I asked the other guard, he admitted that he had not noticed the man at all."

"Which companion was he?" interrupted the Seer.

"The halfling. He arrived here very recently, I understand, having been in this city even less time than the Danuxyyr..."

"I am fully aware of when he arrived and time has little to do with it. You have not been in my guard for long, but I value your contribution. You seem to be dropping hints - please be more explicit."

"Very well. I fear that he may have been trying to steal something."

She couldn't quite shift the suspicion that the guard was trying to stir dissent, but she had to respond. "I trust Cora completely, and I would not level any accusations at her companions without adequate proof. Nonetheless, I will have a look around my rooms just to clear up any doubt."

"Thank you, Mother Seer. Hopefully it is nothing, but as one of the people privileged enough to guard you, I felt it would be wrong not to speak out."

"Very well. Thank you for telling me, Malagdrin... but in future, avoid the ale gardens before your turn at guard duty. Even though you were sharp-witted, it clearly didn't help the condition of your bladder."

He looked mortified: her guess must have been correct. He bowed to her, and was about to step away, when she stopped him.

"Wait. What was the name of the other guard?"

His hands twisted nervously. "I... don't recall. After all, as you say, I have not been with you for long, and I don't recall everyone's name yet."

The Seer was not entirely convinced by his tale: she observed the way he avoided eye contact as he spoke. Unfortunately she could not remember who else had been there either: the changing of guards was such a regular part of her routine that she took little notice of them. She made a mental note to ask some of the other guards about it soon - assuming that there seemed to be a problem at all.

She went back to her rooms, and began to look around. Everything appeared in place, and she was on the brink of giving up on the tiresome task when she neared the chest where the Mirror of All-Seeing was hidden. A footstep away from the chest, she saw a small gold amulet lying on the ground. Lifting it up, she could see the catch had broken and that it carried a couple of enchantments to boost stealth and dexterity. She turned the amulet around, and saw an inscription in tiny lettering on the back: she walked over to one of the faint light globes so that she might more easily read it.

_To Grin, for the laughs we had. _

_E._

Even before she opened the chest, she knew that the mirror was missing.


	18. Chapter 18 It Takes a Thief

**Chapter 18 - It Takes a Thief...**

"What about you, then? Have you ever been in love?"

Cora should have expected the question. While they were walking back to Lith My'athar, Tomi had been telling them all about his first love affair with the daughter of a vizier. The story had many twists and seemed as wildly embellished as any Calishite veil-dancer's costume. Now, after the point where the tale reached its conclusion, Tomi had turned the tables on her.

"Me?" she asked. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Come on then, tell us all about it! Fair's fair."

She wavered before deciding that she didn't have to tell the whole story. She was not obliged to relate every last detail. "All right, but don't expect an exciting yarn. Patrick and I fell in love when we were both quite young. We wanted to get married, but his family had other plans."

"They didn't approve, eh?"

"Well... yes and no. My family were considered highly respectable because of my foster-father's occupation, but his family were far wealthier. They didn't ban him from seeing me, but nor would they approve our marriage. They never came straight out with the reason, but it was obvious they were hoping he would meet someone as rich as they were, or more aristocratic. Preferably both."

"Bunch of snobs, then?"

"Some of them were incredibly hoity-toity and some were pleasant enough, at least to your face. Patrick wasn't like that - he was very sincere - but he was still influenced by his upbringing. None of his female relatives worked, and I think they found it bizarre that a woman should want to be a paladin."

She noticed Valen's sidelong glance at her. She didn't think he was listening, up until that point. Perhaps the mention of paladins had attracted his attention since he didn't think highly of them, as a rule.

"You? You're not the type," said Tomi.

"So everyone seems to think - including me, these days - but I believed I had a vocation back then. I was bitterly disappointed when the Order refused to allow me to become a squire, and only a short time afterwards they accepted Patrick for the same role. I couldn't help feeling envious, deep down. When I broached the subject with him, he said that it was for the best. His family would be more likely to approve of me if I wore a dress more frequently and cultivated some ladylike accomplishments. Needlework rather than swordfighting. I don't think he meant to offend me, but he did. We argued, and I told him that I didn't want to be like one of his helpless, silly sisters. I also said that he had only been given the chance to be a squire because his family donated large sums of gold to the Order. He was deeply offended by that comment."

"So ya broke up over it?"

"For a short while. I had an opportunity to learn more about the combat arts at an academy in the north. I decided to go, but on the eve of my departure I went to see him, apologising for the things I'd said. We resolved all our differences that day. It was then that we made a vow to wait for one another, making no commitment to anyone else. I only saw him on occasional brief visits, although we wrote as regularly as we could. That situation lasted for four years - until my mentor was attacked and I had to go away without any warning."

Tomi whistled. "Blimey. You must have been patient."

She hadn't felt patient at the time_. _ More than once she regretted her vow and had wondered if she wasn't throwing her youth away on a dream which would never be fulfilled. Her worst doubts always seemed to coincide with the arrival of another letter: her faith in the relationship would be reaffirmed and the whole cycle would start over.

"Deekin knows the next bit - it be in the end of the book! When Boss and the brave kobold came back from the Shadow Plane, we ends up near to Hilltop. When we goes back to it, squire man be searching for any news about Boss. Deekin was so glad to write a happy ending for his story!"

She could still see the scene in her mind's eye - the face from her dreams and memories glimpsed across a crowded town hall. She had thought she was seeing things, or that it must be another man who resembled him - until he saw her. He ran towards her, his face reflecting her own bubbling delight.

"It certainly seemed like a happy ending, didn't it? It felt like fate, meeting him there at exactly the right time. My deeds became quite well-known for a while, and Patrick's family decided that having a so-called heroine in the family wasn't such a bad thing. They gave their blessing to our marriage."

"You're married?" Valen asked the question. This was the first time he had spoken on their journey back from the beholder tunnels.

She shook her head. "His family insisted on having a fancy society wedding, and they take many months to plan. The wedding was scheduled for almost a year's time, but we broke up after a couple of months." Her voice was flat.

"Why was that, Boss? Deekin needs to explain in prologue of new book why yous not with squire man."

"Not everything in my life is material for your book," she said tersely. "Let's just say that we weren't meant for one another after all. I'm sure our split would have happened much earlier if we hadn't spent so much time apart." It was time to change the subject, she thought. Turning to Valen, she said "I guess it's your turn."

"Mine?"

"Yes... since we seem to be talking of our past romances, were you ever in love?"

When he did not answer immediately, she wondered if it was appropriate to ask him at all. His lost years of suffering and violence were hardly conducive to romance. In such a place as the Abyss, she could imagine that his fine physique might attract lust, but she doubted that many of its denizens would be capable of loving him. It seemed equally unlikely that he had been in a frame of mind to love another.

When he spoke, his voice was low, as if he was speaking only to her. "Yes, I was. Once." He looked away from her, at the road ahead. "It's not a very good time for me to speak of this, however."

Cora saw the huge gates of Lith My'athar looming out of the shadows. She remained silent, not wanting to push Valen, but she couldn't help wondering who his love was, or how it had ended.

0-0-0

The Seer watched as the double doors of the Temple opened, bisecting the spider which was carved upon them. The doors had opened and closed many times since she made her discovery: this time it was the people she was waiting for. Tomi strolled along at the rear of the group, and the Seer took a moment to study him. His rounded, weathered face wore a near-permanent grin: his gaze wandered constantly with a curious acquisitiveness. If she had not already known he was a thief, she would not have needed her psychic abilities to guess his occupation.

Cora greeted her first. "We're all back in one piece, as you can see..."

"- apart from his armour," added Tomi, inclining his head towards Valen. The tiefling was wearing an inadequate, ill-fitting leather jerkin in place of his prized green armour.

"Let us speak in my chambers." The Seer beckoned towards Nathyrra, who was standing nearby. "Please join us, so that you can stand witness to what I have to say," she said loudly enough so that any others in the room could hear.

She noticed the questioning look Valen gave her. She had been missing his presence in the temple: she would have liked to ask his opinion when her latest problem had first arisen. They did not always agree, but she always made allowances for his tendency to look for the worst in any situation. Sometimes she would find useful insights in the middle ground between their viewpoints.

She waited for everyone to find a seat. "I have something to tell you all, but first I would like to hear your report."

"We cleared out the beholder tunnels." Cora brought out a piece of parchment, passing it to the Seer. "This letter proves that the Valsharess was trying to forge an alliance with the Eye Tyrant."

"Ah, yes..." The Seer nodded to Nathyrra. "Your intelligence was correct."

"We had no opportunity to renegotiate, unfortunately," said Cora. "Every beholder we encountered attacked us on sight, and the Eye Tyrant's room was the worst because they were so numerous. We had to use what I call my 'coward's technique' and run like mad through the tunnels, drawing them out one by one. It took a while, but we must have killed most of them in the end, including the leader."

"I am pleased to learn that you have dealt another strike against the Valsharess," said the Seer. "You have already been a great help to us, but please forgive me - I must now speak of another matter that has been pressing on my mind."

She walked over to a small, inlaid box: taking a key out, she unlocked it. She brought forth the amulet she had found in the room, dangling it between her fingers.

"That's mine!" cried Tomi. "I thought someone nicked it - where did it turn up?"

"Here - in my room." She saw the way the others glanced at Tomi: Cora and Deekin were curious, Valen mildly suspicious. She was reassured by the fact that Tomi claimed the necklace as his own rather than denying all knowledge of it, although that raised further questions in her mind.

"How did it end up in here, then?"

"I only wish I knew. A nickname is inscribed upon the back- do you know what it says?"

"Yeah, it's dedicated to Grin - that's what my mates call me. Elden, the Hero of Neverwinter, gave it to me when we parted ways. Dunno what came over him, since I was getting paid to help him anyway, but I wasn't gonna complain if he wanted to splash out on presents."

The Seer guessed he must have been grateful to Tomi, must have seen him as loyal in his way. She nodded, but did not hand the amulet back to him yet. "Do you truly have no idea how it came to be in my room?"

"I'm sure if I'd been alone in here with you, I would have remembered," he said, giving her a wink.

"Tomi..." said Cora, wincing. Both Valen and Nathyrra scowled at the halfling.

"This is no laughing matter, I'm afraid. I found this next to a chest which had been broken into. The same chest used to contain the Mirror of All-Seeing."

They all started talking at once.

"What? Tomi wouldn't have done something like that!"

"If you did this, halfling, you'll have to answer to me."

"I've been stitched up! I ain't even _seen_ that mirror before!"

"Ooo, wait, let me writes this down! And so the brave kobold's rogue sidekick was accused of a heinous crime - Boss, how yous spell heinous?"

The Seer tried to keep her attention focused upon Tomi, reaching for the feelings behind his words. Surprise. Annoyance. Most curious of all, pride. Yet she could not sense anything in his reactions, whether deliberate or unconscious, which decisively pointed to his guilt.

She had to act, and quickly. She knew that Valen did not fully assume Tomi's guilt, or else his hands would have already been wrapped around the halfling's throat, but neither was he certain of his innocence. She did not need any more infighting in the camp. For the same reason, she had not made the theft public knowledge yet. It could lead to a loss of morale and worse still, might turn her followers against not only Tomi but the Saviour herself, making it impossible for her to lead them when the time came.

For the same reason, she decided not to tell any of them who had made the accusation. Valen would immediately suspect the drow informant, and would be likely to confront him before she managed to find out where the mirror had gone. Even in the unlikely event that Valen did nothing, Tomi would want revenge. Perhaps she would take one or more of them aside quietly later, but not until her mind was clearer. She needed time to think, to meditate and pray for a vision. If only she had something similar to the mirror with her now, her task would be so much easier, but it was one of a kind.

"I am not entirely convinced of your guilt, Tomi Undergallows, and for that reason I will not take any action... yet. I would ask all of you to keep your eyes and ears open around the city, but please keep this matter to yourselves for the time being."

0-0-0

The Seer was finished with them for the time being, and Cora detained Tomi on the way out of the temple.

"I need to speak with you in private - could you come back to my room for a while?"

The halfling appeared relaxed, entirely unruffled by the allegation that had recently been made against him. "I thought you were never gonna ask."

"Pack it in," she said, only to see the beginning of another cheeky grin on his face. "And don't even _think_ about making an innuendo out of that. We're here to talk, remember?" Cora led him to her door.

The black cat was waiting for her, letting out a plaintive miaow as she fumbled for her key.

"Looks like you've made a firm friend," commented Tomi.

"I've no idea why - it's not getting much company or anything else from me. I've given it scraps of food and water a couple of times, but I can't look after it when I'm out in the Underdark. Who knows what it's eating when I'm away?"

"Trust me, ya don't wanna know. It's got to be something disgusting down here - rats would be the least of it."

As soon as the door shut behind them, Cora sat down on the edge of her bed, and nodded towards the dressing table. "You can sit down over there."

Tomi looked around the room with some curiosity. "Not bad. Big bed, too - you can tell that these drow don't sleep alone too often. How come you don't have to share, like I do with Deekin?"

"It's probably because I got here first, but never mind my living arrangements. We've got to think about how we can clear your name."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. It's not as though I've been arrested or anything. I think it's quite funny. I made a bit of a name for myself around Calimport and Neverwinter, but I never thought I'd be get one so soon here! Tomi 'Grin' Undergallows, notorious rogue of the Underdark - that's got a good ring to it, don't ya think?"

"You think that's amusing? You're a suspect for a crime you haven't committed, and you're thinking of the fame? Are you out of your mind?"

"What do you expect me to do? Cry?"

"If I were you, I'd be incandescent with fury right now. I can't believe that you don't seem to care!"

"To be honest I ain't too pleased about someone nicking my amulet - if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's not being an easy mark. But it's not my style to be deadly serious all the time. Not like lover-boy."

"Lover-boy?" For a moment she wondered if he was talking about Patrick, although Tomi had never met him.

"Him with the tail, horns and the sneaky glances when he thinks you're not looking."

"What sneaky glances? You're imagining them." Yet she couldn't help wondering about it. During the last time she stood watch, she noticed that Valen was watching her, although he closed his eyes as soon as she glanced back at him.

"He's probably keeping an eye on me."

"Yeah, I'll say he is. An admiring one, I reckon."

He was only saying it to embarrass her, not because it was true, she decided. "Let's get back to the real issue here, shall we? I want you to know that I have complete faith in your innocence."

"Blimey. I haven't been called innocent for a long time."

"Don't make me doubt you. I refuse to believe that you took the mirror. What motive could you possibly have?"

"Let's see, because you can bet the Seer's wondering the same thing. Money? Yeah, that's a good one. I've already mentioned fame. Power? Bugger that - it's too much hard work once you've got it, if you ask me - but most of these drow types would think otherwise. Whoever did this wants to frame me to take the attention off them, that's clear enough. The only trouble is, I dunno who."

"Yes, and you only have a whole city full of drow, most of whom are complete strangers, so that's going to be easy, isn't it? We don't even know if the mirror's still here, although you can bet it'll be used against us. Why did I bother going out to Shaori's Fell when the one thing I gained from there has disappeared into thin air? Honestly, why do I do this?"

Tomi shrugged, which irritated her further. "Because you're a sucker for punishment? Because there's a geas on you? We're all pretty much stuck down here until you sort out this Valsharess bitch, either way."

Tomi quietened for a moment, seemingly distracted by something behind Cora's back. She turned around to look, but only saw the black cat, sitting in a poised upright position. Wide green eyes blinked at her.

"That bloody cat's been staring at us the whole time, as if it's listening in." asked Tomi.

"Sure it is - and it's got as much chance of solving this crime as the rest of us have." She wiped her hands over her eyes and realised how weary she felt. "I think I'd better get some sleep now - I'll see you later."

Tomi nodded. "All right then - and in the meantime, cheer up! It might never happen."

As he got up to leave she spoke quietly, as much to herself as to him. "It already has."

0-0-0

Cora returned to the bebelith's chamber, alone. The creature was gone, but the carnage it had wrought was still in evidence. What had once been Valen's armour was scattered to each corner of the room. She picked up every fragment she could find, placing them one by one into her pack: somehow, it seemed important that she found all of them.

As she knelt down to take the last piece, she sensed that she was no longer on her own. She stood up and turned around to see Valen gazing back at her. His wounds were healed but he was not fully dressed: his lustrous hair was loose around his bare shoulders. He walked slowly towards her, watching her all the while, until he stopped one stride before her.

"You must be cold," she said. Her mouth felt dry, suddenly: she licked at her lips.

"I am warmer than you might think," he said, "although you have me at a disadvantage."

"I do? How?"

"I'll show you." Valen was wearing a smirk on his face, the expression that told her that he wasn't all serious intent and that sometimes - just occasionally - he had a playful streak.

He reached out with both hands, placing them on either side of her collar, his thumbs fitting just inside. He began to draw his hands down, widening her neckline, stroking down past her collarbone as if he was unwrapping a gift, slow and caressing...until, quite suddenly, he pulled outwards and downwards, exposing her fully to his gaze.

She awoke with a start, finding herself alone in her room. Her hands were clutching the sheets, knotted under her fists: slowly, she released her grip.

_Tomi's in trouble, we're all in danger, and I have a dream like that about Valen? _

_Admit it for once - you're attracted to him._

_Even though he's unsuitable._

The latter sentiment could have come straight out of her foster-mother's mouth: the conditioning of a lifetime had a way of cropping up when she least expected it to. It struck her that with her newly-discovered ancestry, she would be considered equally unsuitable as a life partner or even as a lover by many humans. It explained a great deal about her past, when she thought about it.

She reminded herself that she hardly knew him. She wasn't going to be stupid about this - no daydreams, no speculation about whether the feeling was mutual. It seemed unlikely that Valen reciprocated, no matter what Tomi might believe. She would carry on as before - being friendly, open, but above all sensible.

She just hoped that she wouldn't have any similar dreams while they were camping out together.

0-0-0

After washing and dressing, Cora left her room: she had to think of practicalities, get on with all the tasks she needed to undertake before going on another journey. As usual the city-dwellers regarded her with curious interest or disdain, depending upon whether they were the Seer's followers or not. She in turn wondered which one of them might be the culprit. She hated feeling so suspicious of everyone, but she could not help herself.

She approached Gulhry's stall. The drow mage looked down his nose at her, a curious feat when he was a hand's width shorter than she..

"Anything special today?" _A mirror, perhaps?_

"How can I obtain anything of interest when everyone huddles behind these gates like panicked rothe?"

"I'm sure the rebels will fight bravely when the time comes."

Gulhrys only laughed. "We'll see - or at least _you_ will. My healthy instinct for self-preservation means that I am unlikely to witness it."

She bit back the retort that he sounded like the frightened one: if she riled him, the prices would be hiked further. She studied his wares, looking more carefully around the stall than usual. There was no sign of the stolen mirror nestling among the magical items, although it seemed highly doubtful that he would be so blatant about fencing stolen goods. Although she had not been planning to buy any armour, one helmet caught her eye. She picked it up, turning it around in her hands. Dull like lead and with the barest slits for the eyes and mouth, the helm looked even more confining than the normal type. It only attracted her attention because she thought she had seen it before.

"It's of duergar construction, which is no doubt why it's so hideous. Highly useful when dealing with illithids, however." said the merchant. "They cannot read the thoughts of someone who wears it, nor could their tentacles so easily penetrate the mouth."

She planned to investigate the illithid settlement soon: it would be unwise to go there unprepared. "I suppose it has its uses - but you're right about it being unsightly. It can't be worth much," she said, keeping her voice casual.

"Now that is where you are mistaken." He named a ridiculous figure: used to his ways by now, she bartered him down aggressively. The final price was still more than the helmet was worth, but she knew it could prove invaluable.

As soon as she paid up, he laughed to himself. "I find the trading habits of you and your allies most bizarre."

"What do you mean by that?"

"One of your party will sell something and then another of you will buy it back. Your kobold companion sold me the helmet quite some time ago - and I'm sure the amulet you're wearing is one that you sold to me before General Shadowbreath bought it back. At the time I assumed it was for himself, rather than a gift for a powerful female."

"It must be your wonderful prices that lure us all here," she said sarcastically. She was going to use the djinni from her bottle next time, she thought. He was just as extortionate but at least she wouldn't be dealing with a sneering coward like Gulhrys.

After leaving the stall, she walked past Rizolvir's forge. She only stopped when she saw the smith handling a piece of Valen's armour before tossing it back onto the pile. Valen must have left the remains with the smith: unlike in her dream, she hadn't been the one to pick them up.

"Do you have any plans for it?" she asked.

"Beyond melting it down, no. What other plans could I have for a pile of junk?"

"I don't know... maybe you could reuse part of it in a new suit for Valen, with riveting or suchlike?" She guessed that the Weapon Master might need to have everything custom-made, since he was taller than any drow.

"Why would I wish to? I prefer crafting arms to armour, but this was the finest suit I have ever made, before he ruined it through carelessness."

Cora had the feeling that it offended the smith's pride to think that his best work was treated so shabbily. She wondered whether Valen had taken the time to explain how it had come to be in such a poor state. Probably not.

"Valen takes good care of his armour," she said. "You should hear how he grumbles in damp conditions, lest he gets a spot of rust on it. It would still be as good as new if we hadn't stumbled upon a dead magic zone. All the strong charms you cast upon it were deadened. It was the worst possible time to encounter an armour-crunching bebelith."

"A bebelith, hmm? Interesting... yes, that would explain the pattern of the tears."

Rizolvir picked up the largest fragment again, his dark fingers tracing the jagged edges. He took out another part and placed them side by side: he shook his head and replaced it with another. He summoned his apprentice with an imperious curl of his finger and the two of them carried on reassembling the pieces for a while, drawing lines and curves with their fingertips as if inscribing arcane symbols. They looked so absorbed that Cora suspected they had entirely forgotten her presence.

"Do you think you can make something of it after all?"

"Possibly, but nothing is for free this time. If he wants me to rebuild his armour, he must reimburse me."

Valen had given her the amulet, had ruined his beloved armour and risked his life helping her. Now she had the chance to do something for him in return: a favour for a favour. It had nothing to do with the fact that he looked good in green, she told herself.

"I'll pay," she said.

Rizolvir looked up at her. "I want a deposit - but I promise nothing."

"Sounds like it could be an expensive nothing."

"You are buying my time, which is becoming harder-pressed as the threat of invasion comes closer. I will also need to use supplementary materials. Yes or no?"

"Yes."

She almost changed her mind when he named the price, but now that she had started down this path, she might as well continue. She still had some gold left over from Vix'thra's hoard: she wasn't yet impoverished, in spite of the best attempts of the drow traders to clean her out.

She counted out the coins. "One last thing - don't say a word to Valen yet. Not until you've finished it."

0-0-0

Cora stood at the gates with Deekin and Tomi: this time Valen was the last to arrive. When she saw him walking towards her, she noticed two things: his brow was furrowed in a deep frown, and he was wearing a somewhat dented set of platemail. If neither aspect enhanced his looks, nor could they entirely diminish them: he had a presence that couldn't be ignored.

_Stop it. You're not going to start acting stupid over him, remember? _

Nor was she going to treat him differently to before. "Hey, I'm going to have to fine you for being late!"

He didn't crack a smile in return. "Surely you don't mean that."

"It was a joke." Some things never changed, she thought.

"Got out of bed the wrong side, did ya?" said Tomi.

"I was talking with the Seer," said Valen. "There's something I need to tell all of you."

Cora noticed the way he eyed Sergeant Osyyr, who was standing nearby: there were other guards within earshot too. "Let's talk once we're outside."

"Wait-"

She was already walking ahead: she gave the Sergeant a cordial nod. She thought he would go to open the gates immediately: instead he stood his ground, blocking the way. "Not all of you are authorised to pass."

"We have to talk."

Ignoring Valen's exhortation, she stared at the Sergeant. "I don't understand - what do you mean? We've been through these gates twice before."

He spoke slowly and clearly to her, as if she could not comprehend her own mother tongue. "By order of the Seer, your rogue companion is barred from leaving the city."


	19. Chapter 19 To Catch A Thief

**Chapter 19 - ...To Catch a Thief**

By the time Cora reached the inner chamber belonging to the Seer, she was shaking with anger.

"Well? Are you going to explain yourself? Why have you seen fit to detain one of my friends on a trumped-up charge? You said he was innocent - what's changed between then and now?"

"Please, sit down. We can discuss this matter calmly."

Cora stayed right where she was. "I'll sit when I've heard something sensible. You want me to be calm? Fine. Give me a reason."

She noticed the way the drow glanced at Valen, as if he had anything to do with this.

Valen spoke to the Seer. "I tried to tell her."

"Oh. Great," said Cora. "You're her mouthpiece now, are you? This is between myself and the Seer."

"And me," added Tomi. "Let's not forget who this is about, eh?"

"I'm trying to _help_ you, don't forget that!"

The Seer raised her palms in a silencing gesture. "If you all keep your voices down, I will explain everything."

"Go on, then. Get on with it!" Cora had no intention of speaking quietly or acting like a follower. She was not going to take orders from the Seer.

"Very well," the priestess said with an air of resignation. "As before, I am not wholly convinced of Tomi's guilt-"

"Then why? Why make this arbitrary decision?"

"Allow me to speak, and I shall tell you." For the first time the Seer's voice betrayed some tension, and Cora was glad of to see some kind of reaction from her.

The Seer paused before speaking again. "The evidence, such as it is, points towards Tomi. Besides his locket being found by the empty chest, there was an eye-witness who claimed to see Tomi sneaking away from the door."

"Who?" Both Cora and Tomi said the same word at once.

"I am not at liberty to tell you at this present time. All I can say is that I do not consider this case proven, and that I am treating the witness as a suspect too. The person concerned will find that they are banned from leaving the city, if they make the attempt." She glanced at Tomi. "Whilst your freedoms are slightly curtailed, you are hardly a prisoner here. You are free to walk around this city."

"It doesn't make a whole lot of difference to me if I can't go out the main gates" he said, shrugging.

"So you won't tell us the name of this bastard who accused Tomi, but I'd guess that you would still like the rest of us to go out and risk our lives on your behalf?" said Cora.

"Please understand that this was not an easy decision for me to make, especially when it concerns people to whom I owe a debt of gratitude. I am praying for a vision on this matter, but I cannot force them, and I have not been blessed with anything of substance yet. As for your choices, I cannot impel you to do anything more, after you have already done so much for us, but I think it would be the wisest course of action."

"You can't impel me? That's good, because I'm not very impressed with your so-called gratitude right now. You have an odd way of repaying us. I think it's time that I took a longer rest than I've been doing so far. Maybe I'll take a visit to the ale gardens later, or have a good read through the whole of Deekin's notes. That should take a while."

"Boss, that not be needed-" he said, looking alarmed.

"Then I'll find something else to do, won't I?" She turned her attention back to the Seer. "You can forget about me and my friends doing your dirty work, if you have so little trust in us. If one of us stays behind, we all do."

Noting with satisfaction the look of disappointment on the Seer's face, Cora walked out, still fuming.

0-0-0

"Perhaps it would be a wise idea if you talked with her. You may be able to calm her down."

Valen stared at the Seer, incredulous. "Me? I am probably the last person in this city who could do that." He had enough difficulty keeping his own temper within bounds.

"Don't be so certain, good Valen. I have the feeling that she often listens to your counsel now."

He shook his head, feeling highly doubtful. "Don't expect anything. I make no promises."

When he took his leave of the Seer and walked out of the Temple, he realised that barring an immediate attack from the Valsharess's troops, he was free to do exactly as he wished. Unless Cora changed her mind, he need not feel obliged to follow her around any more.

_No more carrying heavy items for her or keeping her out of trouble. Isn't that what I want? _

_No. Wanted_. He preferred to be out there in the Underdark fighting, rather than sitting around in Lith My'athar waiting for the inevitable to happen. Travelling with her hadn't been as onerous as he had expected.

Still, he could find plenty of ways to occupy himself, if he tried. He could return to training the troops, combined with keeping a closer watch over the Seer. Yet even as he strolled towards the training grounds, he could see that the rebels were occupied well enough with target practice, and were unlikely to improve any more rapidly under his supervision. They didn't need him for that.

It was then that he saw a lone figure relentlessly practising her swordplay. The training dummy jerked with the force of each blow as if flinching in pain. He knew the force that impelled her: he had done the same when he was angry with the Seer.

He also knew that it didn't help.

Slowly, he approached Cora. He made no attempt to sneak up on her, yet in spite of his lack of stealth she did not even notice him.

"If you were outside these walls and I were an enemy, I could have put a knife in your back by now."

She whirled around to face him. "I'm not outside, though, am I? All thanks to that idiotic, senseless decision by your Seer."

_My Seer? What does she mean by that?_

"You know that you're as free to leave as I am. You're here by choice, not force."

"For good reason," she said, before performing a sweeping strike on the dummy. "I don't walk out on a friend."

"Can you be completely sure of his innocence?" It was a fair question, he thought.

She stabbed the sword into the dummy so hard that it stayed in place, vibrating. She left it there. "You think he stole the mirror? Why did I hope that you might feel differently?"

"I didn't say I was certain of his guilt - not yet. If I was, he would be missing a limb or two by now."

He had meant to go on, to tell her that pinning a crime on someone else was a typical strategy among the drow. If he knew who Tomi's accuser was, he would be tempted to try some forceful lines of questioning. He suspected that was the real reason why the Seer steadfastly refused to tell him.

"Is this how you view all of your allies? Guilty until proven innocent? I suppose you think I'm going to find a way to get back at the Seer because of this, too?"

"The thought crossed my mind initially." he admitted. "It doesn't mean that I-"

"Don't you understand how it feels, always being under suspicion? I trust _you, _even if it's not returned. I felt safe with you on the last occasion when your eyes turned red, because we've been in that situation before and I didn't come to harm. If you were in trouble, I would stand by your side. Didn't you know that?"

Her impassioned words hit him square in the chest. She trusted far too easily, he thought. Like many other things she did, it was an impulsive, instinctive act on her part. It would get her killed one of these days.

He grabbed her hard by the shoulders. "You trust me, do you? Do you think that's wise, when I don't even have the same faith in myself?"

He could feel it even now - the urge to lash out and cause her pain, roaring within him - but the quiet undercurrent beneath it unsettled him even more.

She stared back at him, her dark eyes wide. "I never said I was wise," she said, so softly that he had to move even closer to hear her.

He loosened his grip, his hands sliding down from her shoulders along her arms. "You don't know me very well." Letting her go, he took a step away from her.

"I don't need to spend years in your company. You've fought alongside me, spilling your blood, and that's good enough for me. I'd like to think that I have an eye for who's going to stab me in the back or not, and the same applies to Tomi."

"I hope you're right. For your own sake, and for all of us."

Without saying another word, he walked away. He was some distance from the training grounds before he realised that he had failed to make a single point about why she should leave the city. Why had the conversation turned to what she thought of him, and so swiftly? He didn't know what to make of it. He only knew that if the Seer wished to persuade Cora, she would have to find someone who was better equipped for the task - someone who did not need to battle with their own conflicted impulses.

0-0-0

Tomi was taking a quick look around the back of a building when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!"

He half-turned, leaning one hand against the wall. "Enjoying your time off, are you?"

Cora pulled a face. "It's hardly a holiday being here."

"I'd expect a bit more sun for that."

As he spoke, he couldn't help noticing that the mortar beneath his hands was crumbling, and he brushed some of it away with his fingertips. It was a shame that the city walls were not as badly constructed. When one piece didn't budge, he reached for a dagger to chip it out.

"Uh...what are you doing?"

"That'd make a good hold for climbing. I can see a couple further up, but I didn't find any down here until now."

"Tomi!" she exclaimed in an exasperated tone of voice. She leaned towards him, resting her hands on her thighs. It was a pity she wasn't wearing drow armour: he would have got an eyeful of cleavage by now.

"You can't do that - what if someone spots you?" she said in a stage whisper.

"If I was dead serious about this, no-one would see me, including you. I'm just keeping in practice."

She sighed. "I'll stand by you all the way - but you have to help me out too."

"How d'ya mean?"

"I mean no pickpocketing or breaking and entering while you're in this city. You shouldn't even _look _like you might do any of those things - so don't sneak around the back of buildings sizing them up."

She might as well have told him to cut his own hand off. "Hold on. How am I gonna find this mirror if I don't do any of that?"

She straightened up. "I'm not sure - but we'll all stick together and try our best to conduct an honest investigation, won't we?"

He wasn't convinced. Cora's idea of an investigation would involve wandering around asking questions which she thought were sneaky but wouldn't fool a newborn babe, let alone any of the drow.

"Nah, that's not how it works. It takes a thief to catch a thief, 'cause we know all the tricks and hiding places, see?"

"It's not that I don't appreciate your talents, because I do. But there's a time and a place for it..." She continued at length about how much care he must take to look like he had a spotless reputation.

_As if that's gonna convince anyone._

He could imagine what it would be like if she stayed in town. Normally she was up for a laugh, but this situation had brought out her do-gooder tendencies. She would watch out for him and start nagging if he wasn't living up to the standards of behaviour she had set. It would be exactly like being married, except without the conjugal rights.

_Sod that._

"We were off to sort out those mind flayers next, weren't we?" he asked, keeping his voice casual.

"That was the plan - until the Seer had her change of mind."

"We're gonna have to fight 'em anyway when the stinky old Valsharess comes, if they're allied to her. If I were you, I'd sooner sneak into their town and take them by surprise, rather than getting my brains sucked out in the middle of a battlefield."

She looked thoughtful and more than a little guilty. "I know. I don't like the idea of leaving you behind, though."

"While you're out there chatting up mindflayers - either that or beating them up - I'll find out who really took the mirror. You'll come back to find that it's all been solved by Inspector Tomi."

"Remember what I said about not making yourself look like the guilty one?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll be good - and if I can't be good, then I'll be bloody careful!" He was halfway there, but he hadn't entirely reeled her in, he thought. "Then again, if you went without me you'd be forced to spend a lot more time in Valen's company - and you don't want all those awkward silences, do ya?"

She laughed in such a nervous way that he knew he had hit the spot. "I wouldn't want that at all, but your argument about the illithids was quite persuasive. I'll only leave if I'm completely sure you'll be all right."

"I'll be fine. Look on the bright side. If this had happened when I was in Neverwinter I'd be banged up in a cell awaiting trial at best, and hung as a traitor at worst. If this was some other drow matron instead of a soft touch like the Seer, they'd try to tickle the truth out of me with whips - and not in a fun kind of way. I'll manage well enough on my own."

She said nothing decisive before she left, but Tomi felt fairly sure that she would leave the city soon. If he had known it was going to be that easy to talk her round, he would have asked for a loan at the same time.

0-0-0

Cora left Tomi's company with her mind half made up. As she let herself back into her bedroom, she noticed something small and bright upon the floor near her dressing-table. Kneeling down to pick it up, she realised it was the coin of Tymora that she had found in her pocket when she first arrived in the Underdark.

She had never been entirely sure how it had got there - but all of her loose change had gone missing at the same time. Now that she thought about it, she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with someone picking her pocket.

_The little rogue...am I being stupid putting so much trust in him? _

Then again, if Tomi had stolen from her, he had given her a gift in return. She couldn't harbour too much bad feeling about that. She turned the coin around, studying it. She hadn't the heart to sell something so strongly associated with luck.

_If Tomi's honest in one way, it's about what he does for a living. _

She looked at the cat, who had found its way into the room once more.

"What do you think, puss? Heads to stay here, tails to go?"

The animal wasn't much of a conversationalist: its only response was to lick its paw daintily in preparation for a washing session.

"Here goes...Lady Luck, help me make the right decision."

Cora threw the coin into the air, slapping it down onto the back of her hand.

_Tails it is._

Compared with her usual decision-making skills, Cora thought that tossing a coin didn't seem any more haphazard.

0-0-0

Madame Elista perched upon the stool, nursing her drink. She hadn't done this in a long time. Usually she went straight to bed after a scrying session: today she felt the need to get out of the house and unwind for a while, however much her body would complain the next day.

"You're looking better now that you've had a good stiff one," said the barkeeper, Ruby. "Drink, I mean." She laughed to herself - a low chuckle as well-worn as the joke, made to countless customers over the years.

"At my age? I have enough problems on my hands."

"May I ask what's wrong?"

Madame Elista waved her hands. "I sent my familiar far away - but he's not able to help me as much as I hoped."

"Help with what? Have you been summoning devils again?"

Ruby was joking, as usual. Madame Elista was aware that her friend knew a fair amount about her, but believed that at least half was made up of tall tales. It was possible to have an entirely truthful conversation without the innkeeper realising it was not made in jest, and that was a relief, sometimes.

"Devils are far more trouble than they're worth. No, I'm trying to spy on a tiefling. I can't say more at present, but that's the gist of it."

"Oh?" Ruby's eyes took on a faraway look, as they always did when she was reminiscing about her old life. "I may have met one of those in the past. During my days in the Order, one of my colleagues took on an unwanted child for adoption - and when I saw the wee one, I sensed a whiff of the Lower Planes about her."

"Is that so? What did you do about it?"

"What was I going to do, slay a defenceless baby? Maybe some could, but I was never hard-nosed about these matters. I guessed that my colleague knew what he was doing, and I kept my mouth shut. Only a short while later, our leader gave a sermon where he said that it was selfless to take on a babe from an unsavoury background, and that Helm was always more lenient with children than he was to adults. If anyone wondered about the context, no-one said a word - not in public anyway."

She leaned on the bar, resting her chin on her meaty arms. "I've told you about that before, haven't I?"

Madame Elista gave her a non-committal shrug. "You might have done, but I always find your tales interesting." Ruby liked talking, and in the way of highly sociable people, she rarely remembered exactly what she had said to whom. As a result the soothsayer had gleaned a good deal of useful information from her over the years.

"The girl made a name for herself when she grew up, so I heard. It just goes to show how the lowly can rise, just as the holy can fall," said the barkeep solemnly. If the popular image of a fallen paladin was of someone who was irredeemably evil, Ruby failed to live up to it. She had lost her faith whilst conducting an illicit affair. Her only claim to sin these days was the fact that she ran a comfortable inn where her regulars could feel at home whilst quietly ruining their livers.

Ruby went away to serve another customer, leaving Madame Elista alone with her glass and her thoughts.

_I shouldn't complain. Even if I failed to take enough precautions about influencing her, the girl is in the right place. There's every chance that she'll do what I need her to do._

_

* * *

_

* * *

_A/N- Thanks again for the kind reviews. _

_On a less cheerful note, but thematically__ linked to theft, I discovered last night that this story has been plagiarised. If you see something that has most of the same text with a few name changes such as Raneziel in place of Cora, it's been ripped-off from this story and I'd appreciate a heads-up so I can take further action._

_On another note entirely, the age rating will change to M from Chapter 20 onwards. I had been thinking of changing fairly soon, but there's something squick-inducing in 20, so I'm doing it slightly earlier than expected.  
_


	20. Chapter 20 Some Like to Watch

**Chapter 20 - Some Like to Watch**

The group of three were on the road to Zorvak Mur when Deekin spoke up. "Umm, Boss? What made yous change your mind about leaving the rebel city? Deekin needs to write about it in the book."

Cora spoke softly, feeling somewhat sheepish about what she was going to say. "I tossed a coin."

She made the error of stealing a glance at Valen afterwards.

His eyebrows shot upwards, apparently heading for the surface. "That's _all _it took to make you change your mind?"

"No, of course there was more to it." she said, immediately feeling defensive. "I discussed the matter with Tomi, and he came up with a good strategic reason for leaving. So I reconsidered - and the tossing of the coin was the end of it."

"Hmmm. I wonder why the halfling would be so keen to send away someone who was standing up for him? It seems odd to me."

"It's not odd at all," she protested, while simultaneously wondering about it. "He simply made the point that the illithids might be more difficult to resist if we face them on a battlefield. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"It does, although we should not underestimate their psionic attacks in any situation. We need to be well prepared for Zorvak Mur. Ideally we should have a strategy for approaching the illithids, and a backup plan in case it goes wrong. Equipment safeguarding us from their attacks would be even better, and that's something we lack."

"Not as much as you might think." At last she could prove to him that she was capable of advance planning every once in a while. Feeling a smug satisfaction, she brought out the mind-shielding helmet she had bought from Gulhrys earlier. "I only have one of these, but it's a start."

Valen answered her with a rare nod of approval. "That was a good idea - although you might find it even more useful if you put it on."

She pulled a face at him. "Really? I would never have guessed."

She had not taken the opportunity to try the helmet before buying, and now she was convinced it was made for someone with a smaller head than hers. It compressed the tips of her ears and felt uncomfortably hot. She was thankful that she could still see, hear and breathe adequately in spite of the small slits provided for the purpose.

"Boss, is that the helmet Deekin sold after the mad rhyming mage sent us here?"

She had no chance to reply, because she spotted a group of four duergar approaching them. All were wearing helmets similar to her own. They were armed, but they made no attempt to draw their weapons yet.

"Heading for the mind flayer colony?" Although the man's face was obscured beneath grey metal, he sounded relatively friendly. It suddenly struck Cora how rare it was for anyone outside Lith My'athar to speak without attacking first. If she ever made it back to the surface, she was going to treasure every scrap of small talk anyone made to her, however boring or inconsequential.

"I might be - is there anything interesting going on there at present?"

"Interesting?" He shrugged. "I never waste money betting on the fights, but some like to watch. We just sell our stock and get out. Never trust a mind flayer, that's what I say - and never go in there without a slaver's friend, although it looks like you've got that figured out already."

"Slaver's friend?"

The duergar tapped his helmet. "The lump of metal you've got rammed on your noggin, what else? It's the one thing that keeps us slavers from becoming thralls, since the illithids won't respect the difference otherwise."

Suddenly Cora didn't find the man standing in front of her quite so congenial. "You've got the wrong idea. I'm no slaver, and I can't say I have much respect for them either."

She saw the way the helmets swivelled as if the group were exchanging glances, but it was too late to retract her words, and nor did she want to.

"Think you're above us, do you? If you're not a slaver, there's only one thing you can be." He turned to his friends. "We know what that is, don't we, lads?"

"New stock."

0-0-0

Not for the first time, Cora had the feeling that she would be a good deal richer if she could only predict the future. She had bartered hard to buy one helmet of shielding in Lith My'athar, yet now she had four more to choose from. Kneeling down, she levered one of the helmets away from its slumped owner, then took off her own. There was an itch on the crown of her head that she needed to scratch, and this would be her last chance to do so before Zorvak Mur.

After raking her claws lightly over her scalp, she looked up at Valen. "I can't say I feel very sorry for their deaths. I wonder how many lives they've ruined in order to make a few coin in profit?"

"I feel the same way, but it would be a wise idea to stow away your conscience for a while. The duergar have given me an idea. If you pose as a slaver, you should be able to enter the city without too much difficulty. We can investigate in safety whilst finding out a way to reach the Elder Brain."

"I guess you're right, although I don't relish the idea of pretending I'm a slave-mistress."

"It has to be preferable to playing the part of a thrall," he said dryly.

Wiping the duergar's helmet down, she stood up and presented it to him. "I'm not sure about that. Once you're wearing one of these you'll probably wish you were in shackles instead, but it should keep you alive."

He did not take it from her. "I can't wear it. Keep it as a spare."

"Don't you want to protect yourself? You told me to hide my conscience - won't you do the same?"

He looked mystified at first, then faintly amused. "It has nothing to do with principle and everything to do with these." He gestured towards his horns.

"Ah. I've grown so used to your horns by now, I don't give them much thought." She had never seen him wearing a full helmet, and never once before had she considered why. Had she believed that he preferred to intimidate his enemies with his fierce gaze? She wasn't sure.

Another thought struck her. "If I'm posing as a slaver, won't you have to be a slave?"

"Yes, both I and Deekin will need to play that role. We should be safe from the illithids if we keep close to you, since they would never deign to read the mind of someone else's slave. It's a matter of pride for them."

Cora glanced over at Deekin, who was methodically searching through the rest of the bodies. She knew the bard would not find it difficult to appear servile, but Valen might find it more of a struggle.

"We need to look convincing once we're in the town," she said to the weapon master. "What kinds of tasks would a male slave perform for a female slaver?"

She asked the question in all innocence. Yet as soon as she saw Valen's startled expression she realised that it could be interpreted in multiple ways. Some of them were far more intimate than she meant to imply.

He looked directly back at her, although a flush appeared to be rising on his cheeks. "He would do anything she wants." His voice seemed huskier than ever.

She laughed because she felt self-conscious: the sound was irksomely girlish to her ears. She tried to steer the topic onto safer ground. "Does that mean you'll have to cook and clean for me?"

It was his turn to laugh. "Only if you want burnt offerings, served up with a scowl. I doubt I would make a very good thrall. My demonic blood makes me surly and moody at the best of times."

"What about my own demonic blood?" she said, feeling cheeky. "It seems that I can never walk away from a challenge."

His posture stilled. "Is that how you regard me?"

She wondered if he was going to prove his point by taking offence. "Who wouldn't, when you look so stern? Don't mind me, Valen. I'm only teasing you."

His face relaxed into a faint smile. "I know - and from what I have seen of you so far, I'm certain that you can't resist any challenge. Still, we should be moving on now."

She acquiesced without trying to tease him further. She was out of practice with flirting, if that was what she was truly trying to do with him. Reminding herself that she needed to keep a clear head lest she risk losing it to the mind flayers, she donned her helmet and packed the other one.

0-0-0

The settlement had its own beauty, if viewed without paying too much attention to the details. Conditions were brighter than in the rocky landscape outside, resembling twilight rather than a moonless midnight. The architecture was all curves and ellipses, and even the entrance to the town had been concealed by an impressive, if illusory, waterfall.

Valen wondered how much else was real. By the entrance, a group of workers attended to various tasks, silently. He guessed they could only be slaves, yet there was no sign of misery or defiance in their faces. The stillness of their features reminded him of a time when he had watched over the Seer when she was taking her Reverie, yet he suspected that their apparent calm did not come from within at all. _Are they little more than puppets, their every movement only in response to their masters' orders?_

Perhaps Cora had the same question in mind, for Valen saw her approach a blank-faced svirfneblin man. She made an attempt at polite small talk, but the man's face did not move a muscle in response: he carried on with his work as if he had heard nothing. Valen noticed an illithid staring in their direction: he wondered if his companion was overstepping the usual slaver etiquette by speaking with someone else's property. Normally he might have stepped forward with a cautionary word or two, but he felt unable to do so under the illithid's scrutiny. Before they entered the settlement, they had agreed that the 'slaves' in the group would not speak unless spoken to.

They crossed another square, passing a large circular building: for the present time Cora bypassed that, walking over the opposite walkway into what Valen guessed was the area for the slaver's auctions. A human woman stood dejected in ripped, ragged clothes besides a couple of illithids. He noticed Cora's head turning in the same direction: he could imagine her reaction even though he could not see it. For one moment he thought she might walk up to the auctioneer, but with a small shake of her head, she passed by.

He and Deekin were keeping a couple of paces behind her, not close enough to appear as equals: Valen halted, inclining his head as she turned around to speak with him.

"Do you think they have any pubs around here where I can catch up with the local gossip?"

He thought she sounded both friendly and unsure of herself: it was not the voice of someone used to commanding minions who were lower than dirt to her. An illithid was standing a few paces away, close enough to observe and hear even if he could not penetrate her thoughts. Valen allowed himself to look briefly at the slit where Cora's eyes must be, willing her to understand his warning glance, before fixing his gaze on her feet. "I would not know, Mistress."

Perhaps she caught the hint, for he heard a frostier tone in her voice when she spoke again. "On second thoughts, I doubt a mere slave would know _anything_." She let out an exaggerated sigh before carrying on walking.

_It is just as well that she is not the bard in our group. Her acting is even poorer than mine._

When the group came to a spiral stairway going underground, their leader hesitated only briefly before walking in. Since Cora was in front and the entrance passage was narrow, Valen could not see into the room straight away, but he heard her strangled gasp before she halted.

Looking past her shoulder, he saw what had stopped her in her tracks: before them was a line of four illthids standing close to the same number of thralls, their long arms wrapped around them as if engaged in an embrace. A couple of them were standing at an angle where it was possible to see the extent of their grisly task. The illithid tentacles were embedded in the thralls' ears and noses, pulsing and flickering whilst the thralls convulsed, their eyes bulging in horror. One man screamed incessantly until a tentacle was stuffed into his mouth, gagging him: it was only as he started to choke that the slimy appendage slid out, allowing him to retch helplessly.

Valen had heard the process referred to as a rape of the mind before: now the phrase made sense to him even if the word fell short of the reality. Used though he was to many horrific sights, he still felt bile rising in his throat. That was his sole comfort: he knew that his human side was to the fore if he was capable of such disgust. Tearing his gaze away, he saw that there was one other observer in the room, a lone duergar who appeared far from repulsed by the scene. He was grinning and cackling to himself.

Cora turned around and Valen backed away so that she might escape quickly. The duergar must have noticed their intrusion, for he pursued them to the doorway.

"If you want a show, then piss off to the fighting pits, because that's where this lot are bound. Think yourself lucky the illithids are too busy to notice you. They don't allow anyone but the slave warden in here, and that's me." The pride in his voice was evident. "Quite the sight for sore eyes, though, isn't it? I never tire of watching."

Cora said nothing in response: she pushed the door open, hurrying outside.

She walked into a far corner of the square and crouched down on the floor. Valen knelt so that he was at the same level as her. He could hear her breathing hard: one hand was curled around the mouthpiece of her helm, while the left rested above her waist. He exchanged glances with the anxious-looking kobold before looking further afield. With no illithids to observe them in the immediate vicinity, it was probably safe to speak, if only for a short while.

"If you're feeling sick try to let it pass, rather than taking your helm off."

"I'll be fine in a moment - but what about the thralls?" Her voice sounded shaky. "I stood there and did _nothing._ I should have stopped the mind flayers but I couldn't handle it, couldn't even think straight. I had to get out of there."

Valen could think of nothing to say which would comfort her, but after another quick glance over his shoulder, he reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. When he had touched her before, he had noticed her skin was almost as warm as his own: now it felt clammy.

"Deekin thinks it be too late for those slaves, Boss. Maybe they nots feel anything by now."

As usual, Valen thought Deekin spoke too loudly, but he could hardly complain when he had broken their self-imposed rules too. He spoke again to Cora. "You were right to do nothing. It was tempting to attack the illthids, but if any of them broke free we would have the whole town against us."

"I know, but I can't live with the-" She fell silent as the sunken door opened up.

Whilst Cora made a show of adjusting the buckle on her belt, Valen shifted his position away from her. Surreptitiously, he watched as the four illithids came out. Their victims followed in their wake, still leaking snot, blood and brain tissue. They were snarling and howling: he guessed that any small fragments of their minds were retained purely so they were capable of coordination, of fighting to the death.

After the last thrall crossed over the bridge, he heard the dull scrape of metal as Cora stood up. "I'm going back in."

0-0-0

Cora had just enough self-control left to note her surroundings: the warden was alone save for one umber hulk patrolling the room.

The warden strode towards her. "Back again? I thought I told you-"

"You're going to listen to me now. You're not an illithid - how could you stand there and laugh at that disgusting scene like it was some playhouse comedy? What's wrong with you? Are you sick in the head?"

"Sick? Aye - and that's why I'm safe from the flayers. You made a big mistake coming back in here. A feisty one will always put on a good show in the pit fights."

She drew her sword, dashing towards him. He was quick too: he managed to cast a spell even as she reached him, but the missiles only checked her movement rather than fully disabling her. She swung Enserric towards his unprotected neck but the old man was nimble enough to dodge, suffering no more than a slice across the cheek.

The ground shook beneath her feet, but caught up in sparring with the duergar, she could not look around: she heard Valen's battle cry before a boulder-like fist crashed over her shoulder. She stumbled, but barely managed to step out of the way of a second blow. Her mistake gave the warden the chance to cast again, but a crossbow bolt aimed for his arm stalled him, buying her time to follow up with her own decisive thrust between his ribs.

He was bleeding copiously, but she did not stop her relentless assault on him in spite of the fact that the umber hulk was still landing the occasional punch on her back.

_He's dying. Shouldn't you attend to his bruise-inducing companion?_

In spite of Enserric's advice, it was only when the duergar slipped to the floor that she turned to help Valen and Deekin to bring the hulk down.

Valen looked down at the duergar's corpse. "This complicates matters."

"I know. I acted on impulse. Yet again."

"I'm not blaming you. I cannot say that he deserved to live, even if this will make our task harder."

"I just felt so helpless when I saw the thralls losing their minds. But I wasn't - not in any way, compared with them. I had to do something even if I left it too late. I should have killed those illithids when I had the opportunity. I can't imagine having them as allies now. Even if I tried to forget what I've seen, I know I can't - and I could never trust them."

"Stranger alliances have been made in the Underdark in times of need, but I have little liking for their ways either. Whether we negotiate or attack, our chances are greatest if we can reach the Elder Brain. Either way, we should hide the body, and hope that the illithids won't return here for a while."

Deekin, ever the scavenger and identifier of useful items, was already searching the corpse. "There be a huge red key in his pocket. You thinks the nasty grey dwarf be trying to prove something?"

Cora managed to smile. "Good that you found a key, Deeks. We'll probably need it without Tomi around."

All the doors in the room were made of metal, lacking windows: she would have to take her chances about what might be in the rooms behind them. Approaching the door on the right, she heard the distant sound of conversation: she could recognise the sounds as belonging to the drow language, but she could not understand more than a word or two. She beckoned to Valen, who leaned against the doorway.

"They heard the fight and are wondering what's going on. I think they are thralls but I can't be sure yet."

"Time to find out." Trying the door, she found it was locked. Taking a chance, she turned the heavy key in the lock.

She had no doubt about the status of the room's occupants once she saw them. They came from a mixture of Underdark races save for a couple of humans, but all were dirty, unkempt and desperate-looking.

One man, a drow, stepped forward. His bearing was one of a strong, proud warrior in spite of his ragged clothes. "Jalbyr karoth?"

Cora did not understand, but he didn't sound especially friendly.

Valen answered the drow. "Udos ph'naut dosst ogglinar. Shlu'ta dos telanth Rivvin?"

"Yes, I know some Common," said the drow. "I am Argosus, a leader of sorts among these slaves. Where is the warden?"

"Dead," said Cora. "We killed him."

She saw the drow's face spread into a wide smile before he faced the others. "Xunus dos nym'uer? Udos ph'duul'sso! The warden is dead - we are free!" The others broke out into excited conversation in more than one language. Some were already moving for the door.

"Not so fast," said Valen. "Leave now and the whole city will turn against us."

"So? Better to take our chances outside than wait for the preparers to eat our brains."

"You'd put us at risk, after the help we've given you?" asked Cora. "We need to reach the Elder Brain - can't you wait a while longer for our sake?"

"What would we be waiting for? Death in the pits? We are grateful, but we are not idiots."

"Listen to me," said Valen, his eyes taking on a hard, dangerous look. "Risk our lives and we'll repay-"

"Wait!" said Cora. "Hear me out first - and I promise that if the illithids come in while we're talking, then we'll help you fight your way out of here. That's fair, isn't it?"

Argosus folded his arms. "Go on - but speak quickly."

"Once we get to the Elder Brain we will destroy it by sword or by poison, whichever seems feasible. We will never be admitted in there if you leave now - all we're asking for is a little time." She had no poison, but she knew it was commonly used among the drow, and she needed to do all she could to convince him.

Although a few of the others spoke up with dissenting voices, their leader raised his hands to silence them. "Assuming the rivvil can reach the Brain at all, she has a point. The death of the Elder Brain would shock the illithids, weakening their powers. Our chances of surviving the escape would be greater."

If she thought she had won them over, she was less certain when Argosus spoke again. "Very well, we shall delay our escape - but do not expect us to wait for too long for you. "

0-0-0

Valen was playing the role of a slave once more, following Cora out into the town. The thralls had saved them some time by dealing with the disposal of the corpse, but he knew they would find it hard to wait patiently. He expected no loyalty from any drow save for a handful who were well known to him, and he knew that their desire to escape might overwhelm any strategic considerations. He knew what it was like to feel so desperate from his time in the Abyss. He had managed to bide his time, but he was motivated by something more than hatred and fear. _I hoped to free Imogen. Instead I caused her death._

He was distracted from his thoughts by Cora's sudden stop beside the auction area, and he groaned inwardly when she approached the illthid auctioneer. The female slave they had seen earlier was still on sale, but an illithid seemed to be taking an interest, circling around her.

This was not the time for Cora to dally, however honourable her intentions were.

He tried to keep his face muscles relaxed into a neutral, servile expression, although it was all he could do to prevent himself from grinding his teeth once Cora started bidding for the girl. He could only tell what was happening from her responses, for the other bidder seemed to be an illthid who would communicate with the auctioneer and Cora through thoughts alone.

Eventually Cora won, counting over coins in payment for the thrall. "No," she said in response to a question that Valen could not hear. "I don't want to have her prepared for the pits - I need a worker, not a fighter."

The illithids had not taken the thrall's mind yet: she was still unbroken enough to have anger in her eyes rather than a dull resignation. Valen could see that her lank hair obscured a still-youthful face that would have been pleasing to look upon, were it not for the dark circles under her eyes. She wore a collar around her neck: Cora held the other end of the leash.

"I'm going to send you on ahead of me once we get to the edge of town. From there I want you to run along to Lith My'athar as fast as you can. I can give you clear directions. Ask for the Seer, and tell the gate guards that Cora sent you. She'll find you some work until I arrive."

"Run along? Oh, I'll run, all right."

Valen saw Cora yanking the leash hard, jerking the slave towards her. "Take a long hard look at my other slaves and you'll realise they still have their wits. If I have even the slightest suspicion you're going to defy me, I'll change my mind about having you prepared for the fighing pits. Is that what you want, slave? Your last lucid moments filled with terror?"

Maybe it was due to her own sense of urgency, but for the first time Cora sounded convincing as a slaver. The girl's bravado crumpled. "No - please - I'm sorry."

They walked to the entrance of the town at a brisk pace. Cora drew Enserric and handed it to Valen. "Hold my sword, slave. Don't even_ think_ about using it."

He grasped the hilt, allowing just a little sullenness to show: he still did not understand why she was tarrying for the sake of one girl when they were all at risk.

_Try to curb your impatience, outsider. It's looking dreadfully obvious. _An unfamiliar voice drawled inside his mind, and he guessed it was Enserric.

_Why is she wasting time on this?_

_She bought the girl because of the other bidder's interest. She feared that he would take the slave to be prepared, and we don't want any illithids walking into the thrall pens soon, do we now? If they read the mind of just one thrall they would instantly find out your plans - it was risky to tell them so much, but it's too late now, I fear. Cora dares not risk divulging her intentions to this thrall for similar reasons in case she is recaptured - hence her charade. _

_I understand. Tell her that when I hand you over. You should also tell her that we cannot afford any more delays before we see the Elder Brain._

_Yes, yes, because I so enjoy being treated as a glorified messenger-boy between two tieflings, when I was once a mage of considerable talent. How are the mighty fallen!_

_Think yourself lucky, sword. In your current form the illithids can't take your brain - although you could always be melted down for scrap._

Valen did not hear Enserric's reaction save for his initial spluttering, for the slave had departed and Cora held out her hand to take the sword back. Thankfully she did not allow any silent communication between herself and Enserric to delay her further, and they made swift progress through the town.

They crossed over the bridge leading to the Elder Brain's domain. Instead of a building or a spiral stairway, the area was almost empty save for an inactive portal and one illthid standing guard before it.

"I have reason to talk with the Elder Brain: it's about a matter of some urgency. Could you let us through the portal?" said Cora.

Again, Valen could hear nothing of the response, but there was something about the way the illthid's tentacles waved - and Cora's frustrated expression - which suggested he was greatly amused by the idea.

"Can't you give them a little more detail about my intentions? I'm here to talk about your alliance with the Valsharess. I have a proposition which may be of some interest to the Elder Brain."

This time, the tentacles twitched. Whether the motion signalled agitation or surprise, Valen could not tell.

"We can go in? Thank you so much." As she stepped forward, the illithid must have said something else to her. "Remove my helmet? Is that truly necessary when you can speak telepathically with me? I'm not taking this off!"

Even though Valen could not hear the guardian's answer, he was fairly sure that it was a clear refusal to open the portal.

_Don't do it! This is a trap. Turn around and come back. We can discuss this away from the guardian._

Cora could not hear his thoughts: this time there was no go-between to pass them on to her. Valen's misgivings turned to dread as he saw her remove the helm before handing it over. They were to walk into the portal with all of their minds unguarded.

* * *

Jalbyr karoth? = Another slaver?

_Udos ph'naut dosst ogglinar. Shlu'ta dos telanth Rivvin?= We are not your enemies. Can you speak Common? _

_Xunus _dos_ nym'uer? Udos ph'duul'sso! = Did you hear? We are free!_

_Translations were made using the Chosen of Eilistraee drow language translator, as always._


	21. Chapter 21 Trapped

_A/N - I had to make a couple of changes a few hours after posting because I spotted a continuity error, but it's been sorted out now._

**Chapter 21 - Trapped**

It was an irony that among the people whom the Seer trusted, foremost among them were two people who had once tried to kill her. One of those people was away: she hoped that he was helping the Saviour to forge an alliance with the illithids. The other, Nathyrra, was currently sitting in a chair by the Seer's bed. Her arms were relaxed in her lap but a blade was in her hand, ready should there be any unwelcome visitors.

Closing her eyes, the priestess let her awareness of her current location fade. Her spirit body drifted upward to her secret grove on the surface of Toril, all the while retaining the knowledge that her flesh and her bones were underground in Lith My'athar.

She prayed to her Goddess, silently beseeching her to show her the truth about the missing mirror, should it be any threat to her followers.

She walked, scenting the night air with its green, herbal notes. It had rained recently: spirit-feet felt the damp grass, the stickiness of muddy clay soil. It would have been a pleasure just to stroll for a while, but she had a purpose, looking for a sign. _ One day, more of my people will have the chance to see this land, if we survive the coming war._

A glimmer of light caught her attention: a sliver of moon reflected in a tiny pool, little more than a puddle.

_It could serve as a mirror._

She knelt down, seeing herself as if she were flesh: her pointed chin, her grey eyes, a nimbus of snowy hair. It was then, above her crown, that she saw the star.

She looked up to the sky: the star was out of place, unfamiliar in its constellation, orange-red instead of white. As she watched, the star began to shoot, its arc curving ever downwards, and although it grew no larger, she was aware it was heading in her direction. Unsettled, she backed away, casting a shielding spell: it dropped like a dying bird into the pool. She walked a little closer, her steps cautious.

A deep, pulsing red flared across the pool, dimming to a molten stone. Whip like black strands wrapped around the fiery glow, cocooning it.

_Or binding it._

She stirred, and the scene faded from her inner vision.

"Mother Seer, are you well?"

The Seer was sitting up, her mind groggy. She did not normally choose to come back so abruptly. "Something's wrong. Someone has worked powerful magic, and I suspect that it is malevolent."

"Is it affecting you?" asked Nathyrra, looking alarmed.

"I am fine, but I must have been shown the vision for good reason, perhaps by way of warning. Although I first saw it within my grove, I sense that it happened relatively near to us." She pulled her robes over her head before standing up. "If am quick enough, I may be able to find the lingering traces of the spell. Let's go out for a walk."

0-0-0

Cora regretted her decision almost as soon as she made it, but there she was, on the other side of the portal - and one of her companions appeared decidedly annoyed about being dragged along with her.

"Why didn't you stop and turn back?" said Valen.

"I didn't know what else to do." She tried to keep her voice low.

"You could have taken us to a quiet corner where we could discuss the matter."

"Yes. I could have done many other things - don't you think I've already told myself that? The portal guardian was waiting, and I felt a sense of urgency. Do you honestly have a better idea?"

"Not any I'd care to disclose while I am in here."

"I'll take that as no. We can leave if you want, but it's going to look suspicious-"

Even as she spoke, the portal dimmed before them.

_It's only coincidence. Surely they can't read my thoughts when the room's empty._

Under Valen's reproachful gaze, Cora felt the need to justify her actions some more. She pulled her pack from her back. "I'm not as unprotected as you think," she said, pulling the spare helm out. "Remember?"

Valen placed his hand on hers, stilling her movement. "I didn't - but I'm glad you thought of it. Don't put it on yet, though. It might provoke the illithids."

"Deekin gots spare helmet too, but it won't fit a kobold."

"Keep your packs within reach in case of trouble," said Valen. "For now, we must clad our wills in iron: the mind flayers are the ultimate deceivers."

"That shouldn't be too hard, considering how stubborn we both are."

She was rewarded by the hint of a smile from him. "Just to be careful, I suggest we all try to think of something that has nothing to do with our current task."

She understood. She had no idea of the reach of an Elder Brain's powers, and although no illithids had come out to meet her, she had been spooked by the sudden dimming of the portal. They moved forward, walking through a curving, twisting passage before the way straightened out. There were illithids dotted around the hallways but they were not numerous. Each one that she passed made brief contact with her mind, an unnerving tickling sensation, only to say '_Keep walking, thrall'. _She did not like being called her a thrall as if they possessed her, but she knew better than to linger or argue.

"I am one with my will, one with my flail. Its path is my intent, its length my reach, its thunderous blow my gentle kiss." Valen spoke in measured tones, reciting the words to himself.

Cora might not have heard him if it was not for the eerie silence that prevailed in a place where nobody needed speech. She wondered if it was something he used to focus his mind, rather as she would have uttered a devotion to the Watcher. She recalled that the last time she had prayed was to ask for help in Drearing's Deep. Her prayer had been granted, and she had not thought to offer any thanks since. Although her life had long ago departed from the strict routines of her childhood, her religion was still a source of strength. She had been more lax than ever of late, and she felt rather guilty about it.

_Through the door, thrall._

Cora had to steel herself not to flinch: she had not noticed the ulitharid who had uttered the command. A doorway opened as if by itself, and she passed through. They were herded in similar manner by the telepathic beings until they reached the entrance of the inner sanctum. Even before she entered the room, she could see that the Brain's spongy form dominated the space.

"And so the intrepid kobold approached the lair of the Elder Brain, who looked like dough made with too much yeast."

_Good old Deeks. You never fail to make me smile - although I'm not sure about your timing right now. _She wondered if the Elder Brain had heard - but then, what need would such a being have for hearing?

_Wait, _said another voice in her mind. _You have spare helmets of shielding. You were supposed to hand them over before you enter._

She stole a glance at Valen. He must have heard the same voice in his mind, for he gave her a small nod. An illithid glided towards her: reluctantly she gave up the helm, and Deekin did the same. Feeling more apprehensive than before, she walked into the room.

It was then that she felt the unnerving sensation of the Elder Brain trying to make contact. No longer could she think of it as one entity when flashes of places she had never visited, faces she had never seen, passed through her mind with dizzying rapidity. A thousand voices babbled unintelligible words all at once. It was almost too much for her to stand, but gradually the barrage merged into a chorus which spoke in perfect unison.

_You have been given a rare privilege, thrall, to be admitted to the Inner Sanctum. You say that you wish to talk about the Valsharess, yet you are no drow._

"I hear that you are allied to the Valsharess, but I doubt she makes a good partner. She treats her allies like subordinates."

She felt a ripple of irritation from the Brain. _ We are fully aware of this - just as we know that you come from one of her enemies, the drow known as The Seer. Your own intentions are obvious to us, and we also know how futile they are. In the unlikely event that you could defeat us, you would still have to fight every other pod in the Underdark who is allied with the Valsharess. Do you know why we are allowing you to survive so far? _

"Because the Seer offers genuine hope for the future?"

_The drow are only fit to serve as thralls, and the desires of a minority amongst them hold no interest for us. Instead, there is something that we want from you. We captured a thrall a while ago from Shaori's Fell, and learned of a magic mirror that can be used to spy upon enemies. If you could give us the artefact, we would convince the Elder Concorde to abandon our allegiance with the Valsharess._

"I know of such a mirror," she said, keeping her voice non-committal. "We found it a while ago, but I don't have it in my possession right now."

_Your thoughts are more open to us than you care to believe, thrall. They tell us that the mirror in question has been stolen and you have no idea where it is._

The collective voice had an air of threat in its tone now. Cora's hand crept towards her scabbard, but before her fingers reached Enserric's hilt the room turned black.

0-0-0

Cora walked through a meadow in full flower. Poppies, corn marigolds, moon daisies: all stretched into the distance in a dazzling display. She could hear birdsong and the hum of industrious bees.

_Light. Colour. _She realised that she found the bright sky unexpected, even out of place. But then, what was she expecting instead of this? She tried to remember, but all she could recall was dimness and unremitting grey.

_I must have woken up in the dark earlier, but it's noontime now._

It was then that she saw the squire. He walked through the field, the sunlight glinting from well-polished plate mail. His hair, the colour of ripe hazel shells, was cropped neatly save for a floppy fringe. He had a pleasant, open face: there was nothing startling or outlandish in his appearance. She started to walk towards him, and as he saw her, he waved before running towards her.

"Cora! How wonderful to see you again!" He looked boyish in his enthusiasm: his cheeks dimpled as he smiled at her.

"And you, Patrick. How long has it been?"

"I forget the precise amount of time, but it doesn't really matter. We're together, and nothing need part us again." He reached for her gloved hand, bowing to kiss it lightly before letting it go.

Cora had a feeling that something was missing from her memories of him. She recalled letters - long, eloquent letters, always anticipated and re-read many times over. Long absences, sweet reunions. She recalled the sight of him holding flowers - but they were roses, always, from his family estate. His family employed a head gardener to tend those flowers, expending years of effort upon their selection and breeding.

She remembered much of her past meetings with him, but there was more that she could not grasp, and her instincts told her it was important.

There is something I've forgotten," she said. "It's driving me mad. It keeps slipping away from me."

"In that case, it is either irrelevant, or better unknown. See it as a snake in the grass and if it appears, I shall slay it for you." He drew his sword, twirling it in an exaggerated gesture.

She laughed at the sight. "There are snakes here?"

"Just my silly figure of speech," he said before sheathing his sword. "There is nothing in this land which will ever cause you any pain. Let us walk together, my beautiful one, and simply enjoy one another's company."

He gave her an appreciative glance before linking arms with her. His eyes were a soft grey-blue, she noticed. Somehow, she should have remembered that. Instead, she had a vague memory of a paler, clearer shade. How could she have forgotten what he looked like?

She halted. "You told me I was beautiful."

"It is only the truth, my dear, and it always has been."

She felt hot anger washing through her. "Is it? Do you find _these _quite so pleasing to look upon?" She ripped off her gloves.

_Clear fingernails, with a delicate half-moon at the base. _

"These aren't my real hands," she said. "They can't be."

"Of course they are, my sweet. How can they not be? You have always been like that. Please, calm yourself. Everything is as it should be."

"No, they are the hands I _wanted_ to have. I used to dream that I would wake up one morning and they'd be transformed. I hoped - I even prayed - but it never came true." That was the real reason why she had made an effort to learn a little magic: she hoped to find out how to cast an illusionary glamour. Permanently, if possible.

Patrick's answer went unheeded: she was too preoccupied with the way her hands were beginning to change before her eyes. The nails darkened, lengthening into points, and for the first time in her life, she was relieved to see them. They were a point of familiarity in a scene that was becoming less real by the moment. Glancing at Patrick, she saw that a small scar above his left eyebrow was absent, as was a mole on his upper lip.

There were many paintings in Patrick's ancestral home, she remembered: portraits of his family where all their flaws, however minor, had been brushed away by an artist who was keen to keep his wealthy patrons satisfied.

"Your hands are perfectly normal. If you see anything else that is strange, it is only a reflection of your fears."

"No. I'm not afraid of these claws...not any more. They broke the spell between us, along with everything else that Patrick found freakish about me, and maybe it was for the best. I could never be the woman he wanted, however hard I tried."

"You speak as if I am not here. Why would you do that? You were never so ill-mannered before, but surely it is a slip of the tongue. I shall forgive you."

"Ah, but I was never quite in your class, and I've hung around with all sorts since I first met you. People you would find strange, even loathsome. It's taught me to look behind appearances, to seek the gold hidden in the stone."

_Resist, Cora!_

The voice did not belong to the man who stood before her. "Who was that?"

"You heard nothing, save for the wind rippling over the grass." His appearance flickered like a wax mask which was slowly melting away: his voice had a bubbling, distorted quality too.

"I know what I heard. You're not Patrick at all, are you? None of this is real!"

Only then did he change into his true form, and Cora found herself battling a pit fiend.

0-0-0

"Cora! Wake up!"

Someone was shaking her. Clear blue eyes looked into her own: Valen was leaning over her, a look of intense concern on his face.

"I didn't think you were going to wake - were you dreaming too?"

"I was...I'll explain later." Her voice sounded muffled, sleep-fuddled. She grasped Enserric and pointed him in the direction of the immense, spongy mass of the Elder Brain. Without getting to her feet, she threw the sword like a spear.

The massed cry of anguish in her mind was almost impossible to bear, but thankfully it was short-lived. A sticky, noxious fluid seeped across the floor.

_Are you going to dig me out of this foul sponge? I don't wish to be marinated, you know. It tastes absolutely vile. _

Cora stepped gingerly over the liquid to reach for her sword.

"We need to make haste," said Valen. If we need to fight our way out, it would be best to strike while they are still in shock from the Elder Brain's death."

She turned to see how Deekin was faring: thankfully the little kobold got to his feet before the fluid reached his body. "Are you up to singing for us?" She thought he still looked stunned from his sudden awakening.

"Deekin always be ready to sing for Boss!" he croaked, before launching into a cracked rendition of the Doom Song. He had barely finished when a group of illithids rushed into the room, and they leapt into the fray.

0-0-0

"This doesn't look familiar," said Cora as the group rounded a corner. "Think we should backtrack?"

"This outer hallway curves around in a circle," said Valen. "We might be approaching the portal from the opposite side."

"Yous think these pods be fancy wardrobes, Boss?"

Cora could understand why the idea had occured to Deekin: the curved units lining the walls of the room were a head taller than Valen, and each had a narrow set of double doors. "Those mind flayer types don't seem to vary their dress much - but you might be right about this being some kind of storage."

As she spoke, one of the doors opened, and she had just enough time to spot the illithid within, launching her attack upon him. Typically for his race, he was not physically strong, and she needed little assistance to take him down. Glancing away, she saw that Valen was opening an adjacent door: the illithid within barely had time to react before Devil's Bane smashed into the tentacled skull.

"Maybe they're the equivalent of an illithid bedroom, instead," said Cora as Valen kicked the corpse into a corner. She peered through to the hallway ahead of them, and froze: easy though the illithids were in their weakened state, she wasn't sure they could win against the sizeable group which was heading in their direction.

Valen must have spotted them too, for he stepped into the newly-vacated pod, grabbing her arm to pull her after him. Deekin leapt in last, closing the doors behind him.

"I don't think they saw us," whispered Valen. "If we keep still and silent they might pass us by."

Hidden though they were, Cora wondered if their thoughts would betray their presence. All she could do was hope that the capsules had a similar dampening effect to the shielding helmets, because they appeared to be crafted from a similar material. She would be prepared to fight her way out if the worst happened.

It was dark and uncomfortably warm: she and Valen stood body to body, his arms wrapped around her as close as a lover. She felt the heat emanating from his face, his warm breath on her forehead as she stood perfectly still, trying to breathe as silently as possible. _Faster than usual_, she thought, listening to her pulse. _It's only because I fear the illithids outside._

She might have forgotten about Deekin entirely, had it not been for an insistent flicking against the side of her boot. She guessed he was feeling nervous and was tapping her without realising what he was doing. She tried to ignore it at first, but it was annoying her.

"Whatever you're doing, stop-"

Her sentence was cut off by a hand clamping over her mouth, followed by one word uttered in the a dry whisper. "Quiet."

The manhandling and the order could have annoyed her, had it not been for the distracting sensation of his lips softly brushing against her ear, waking up nerves she didn't even know she had. _If he can make me feel like this without even trying, what would it be like if he meant it? _ As Valen took his hand away she realised she must have been holding her breath, because it was now audible to her own sensitive hearing. She heard footsteps outside the pod, but they passed by, growing fainter.

The flicking had stopped, only to be followed by Valen having a fidgeting session in turn, his posture shifting. Cora's darkvision helped her to see through the gloom, but as she stole a glance at Valen's greyed-out face she saw a grim, set line to his jaw and an intense frown.

When they left the capsule he still looked tense: his tail swished more quickly than usual. The illithids were nowhere in sight, so Cora took the chance to speak to him.

"Is something wrong?"

"Save for the fact that we need to escape with our minds intact? Everything's fine," he snapped.

"Sorry I asked," she said, feeling abashed.

He looked away from her. "I'm feeling out of sorts. Forgive me."

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it," said Cora. When she saw him flush, she added "I mean, lots of people feel trapped in enclosed spaces - it's not particularly unusual. If you're feeling shaky, we could find a secluded corner to rest in."

"I don't-" he began, before giving her a small, twitchy smile. "I feel well enough. It's nothing that a fight won't cure."

Feeling more relaxed, she grinned back at him. "Now you're talking. That's the cure for everything, and I don't think we'll be leaving this place without a few more."

0-0-0

How could he have told her? How could he have said that her protective coat of armour didn't entirely stop him feeling the warmth emanating from her body, or that her spiralled curls tickled the side of his jaw, making him want to bury his face in her hair and breathe in the scent of her?

He had been dimly aware that he found her attractive ever since he stopped pretending to himself that he hated her. In itself, it meant nothing much: he could have said the same of a handful of drow women in the rebel camp who outstripped her in beauty and dressed more provocatively. Yet they left him feeling indifferent, while Cora was beginning to affect him in ways he had not anticipated.

His one past fleeting glimpse of Cora's naked form had been captured faithfully by his memory, for it came flooding back in vivid detail when he was trapped in that confined space with her. _Soft curves, taut muscle._ Golden skin merged with darker, scaly patterning beneath her knees, reminding him of another time when similarly-marked legs had been wrapped around his back. It had been a swift, meaningless release: such hasty rutting after battle was not uncommon in the Abyss, chances hastily taken before their masters called them back.

He told himself that this was not the time or the place to think of sex, when they were in imminent danger. They had to work together, keep one another alive: he did not need any complications. Yet none of his inner dialogue made any difference. The image paraded across his mind, wantonly mocking his efforts to shut it out. It was one of the few times when his demonic instincts were in accord with his human ones, when his mingled blood rushed straight to his crotch.

If it irked his pride that Cora now thought he was scared of enclosed spaces, he could live with that compared with the truth. So he made his customary response when faced with feelings which threatened to undermine his fragile equilibrium.

"We should move on now," he said. "Let's find this portal and get out of here."

0-0-0

Tomi thought there was something funny going on with the Seer. He spotted her wandering around the town with Nathyrra, and she paused more than once by one particular house as if something about it caught her attention. The place had a couple of heavies on the door, but Tomi assumed the Seer would be free to walk into any building she wanted around here if she chose. Instead, she did a circuit of the building before walking away, all the while looking preoccupied. Tomi would have never stayed in business as a rogue if he didn't have a good eye: right now it was telling him something was up.

"Mornin' Seer," he said cheerily, stepping in her path.

The Seer started, so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed him approaching, and Nathryrra answered in her stead. "Actually, it's evening.".

"All right, suit yourself. Evenin', then."

The Seer smiled at him: for someone who had effectively placed him under house arrest, she wasn't such a bad sort. "It must be difficult for you to tell. Here, we use the tides as our guide to the passing of time, but some other drow settlements use other methods."

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No - not at all," she said hurriedly. She confirmed his suspicion with a shifty glance towards the guarded house once more. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason, just a hunch. Any luck with finding that mirror yet?"

"Unfortunately, no." The priestess lowered her voice. "I would be overjoyed if you could find out something, but you must be aware that not everyone within these walls is a follower of my Goddess and some alliances are fragile. If you were caught in a suspicious situation in the wrong place, I might not be in a position to protect you."

"Don't worry, I never get caught with me pants down - unless there's a girl involved."

"Don't get in any trouble," she said more loudly, her countenance now stern.

He waited until she was out of sight, then slipped behind the building. A quick look left and right confirmed that no-one was watching. Focusing his mind, he slipped into shadow form. _Easy. _Now he could take a closer look around the building and find out what the Seer had been so interested in. Like the priestess, he circled around the building: unlike her, he looked for footholds. He was rounding the corner, not far from the door guards, when he heard a loud miaow. It was the black cat, the persistent little bugger who was always hanging around Cora whenever she was in town. The doorman on the left aimed a kick at it: the animal expertly dodged before approaching Tomi.

_Do I look like your new mum? Get lost, will ya? _

Tomi did not really believe the moggy could read his thoughts, but he had to wonder if it had some other kind of sixth sense when it brushed up against his invisible legs. The creature yowled again. Tomi froze as the doorman peered around the corner, then he slowly backed away. The cat trotted after him as if expecting something. Maybe it wanted food, but Tomi wasn't in the mood to indulge it.

"Scram!" he said once the drow were out of earshot, but that didn't work either. The cat might as well have been one of his conjured shadows, it followed him so diligently. It was only when he walked away from the building that the puss decided to bound ahead of him, but even then it sat down, staring at him before letting out another cry.

_I'll get nowhere with that thing drawing attention to me. _Tomi wondered if he should give up on his snooping efforts entirely, but before he walked away, the animal repeated its action, backtracking a few steps, sitting down and mewing at him. He was beginning to have the feeling that the creature was trying to tell him something, and it had nothing to do with wanting a nice bit of fish - not that it would find any in a place bordering a poisoned river. Feeling like a fool for paying much attention to an animal, Tomi crept closer. Just as he reached the feline, it scrambled up the wall to a low overhanging section of roof before peering over the edge as if to taunt him.

The wall had a small recessed alcove which suited his stature just fine, helping him to climb up if he braced himself on either side. Now all he had to do was get himself up on that roof. It was a bit of a stretch, but Tomi reached for the edge and got a firm grip before hauling himself over. He knew his shadow form was probably beginning to fade now, so he kept his body pressed flat to the roof tiles, creeping over them.

He might have known that the contrary cat would get away from him now it had his attention, and it did, scampering around the curving rooftop. As he followed, it leapt from the rooftop to the one opposite. The buildings were close enough together that Tomi thought it was a safe enough jump for two legs, but he waited long enough so that he could resume his shadow form before leaping.

The puss continued to lead him a merry dance around the upper part of the town until there was nowhere left to go save for an open window nearby. Tomi was enjoying this caper by now: he had been getting bored whilst holed up in the rebel camp and a good break-in was just what he needed to liven things up.

After some effort, he found the footholds he needed, and reached the edge of the window. _Smells like a privy. _ As he climbed in, he realised that was exactly what it was, and a bit of fancy carving around the commode didn't make it smell any sweeter. There was nowhere to hide in the small room, so Tomi had even less reason to hang around: he scooted through the door, only to realise he was in a luxuriously-decorated bedroom, and he wasn't alone, for a drow woman was sitting in a chair, gazing into a mirror.

Although she hadn't seen him, Tomi didn't take any chances: there was a bed nearby, so he dived underneath, covertly watching the drow from there.

She spent a long while gazing into the silvered surface. _Nah, it can't be...can it? _Chances were that she was vain, nothing more. Tomi's interest was piqued anew when she locked the looking-glass within a chest. Even if it wasn't the stolen mirror, it had to be worth something if she didn't leave it lying around.

After the woman left the room, Tomi went straight for the chest: he would grab the mirror and anything else which looked worth nicking before heading back the way he came in. After wielding his trusty lockpicks, he was about to claim his loot when he heard voices outside. Sighing, he closed the chest and dived towards the bed again. He had just enough time to wriggle underneath when the door opened. The same woman was talking with two other drow stationed by the door: They appeared to be standing on watch, but no matter: it wasn't his chosen escape route.

To Tomi's dismay, a third drow arrived, following the woman into the room: after a few more words, the man went into the privy, closing the window with a loud creak before coming back into the bedroom and settling down in a seat which was perilously close to the privy door. Even with invisibility, Tomi wasn't going to fool anyone if he opened that door. He was trapped, for now: all he could do was wait and hope that they weren't planning to stick around.


	22. Chapter 22 Confidences

_Thanks again for the reviews! _

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**Chapter 22 - Confidences **

Cora stood underneath the illusory waterfall by the exit from Zorvak Mur, catching her breath. Right now, she wished the water were real: she wanted to wash away the gore amassed from their lengthy fight to reach the gate.

_And that was nothing, little more than a riot. It's a taster compared to what's coming to us. _

Glancing at Valen, she saw his posture stiffen. She looked around to see a small group of drow walking towards them and moved closer to him. "I think they're probably thralls, not slavers." She couldn't be entirely sure: battle and injury levelled out the differences in their appearance.

As they walked closer, one of the men nodded to Cora. After a moment's thought, she recognised the thrall leader called Argosus. His pale hair was matted with blood.

"It was good to see the mind flayers panicking for a change," he said, baring his teeth in a smile.

"Was it you who started the riot? You could have waited for us," said Valen.

"Keeping ourselves alive was more important than respecting your wishes, errdegahr le'i ."

"In truth, the chaos it caused probably helped us escape," said Cora.

"The female is right. You should be thanking us."

Guessing that Valen had finally met his match in bristling pride, Cora said, "We all got out alive, which is more than you can say for the illithids and slavers. That's the most important thing." She eyed the escaped thralls. "Where are you heading for next? You could join forces with us, if you like."

Argosus and his surviving companions exchanged sceptical glances. "Do you want to pay us to guard you?"

"No," said Valen. "She already has someone who is better equipped for the job."

She didn't know whether to be irritated or amused at their posturing. "We're working for a drow priestess known as the Seer - have you heard of her?" she asked Argosus.

He smirked. "Even after being enslaved for a while, I'm sure I am more aware of what goes on in the Underdark than you are, surfacer. Yes, I'm aware of her."

"Fighters like you would be an asset to her army," she said.

"I disagree," said Valen coldly.

Cora didn't understand. She wanted to ask why he was turning down any new recruits at a time like this, but Argosus answered before she had the chance.

"Have no fear. I have no desire to fight for a lost cause that I don't even believe in."

"Don't assume we're going to lose anything. We killed the Elder Brain, after all."

"An easy enough task, once you get the opportunity."

"Try fighting against a dream, especially when you don't even know you're taking part in one, and then say it's easy."

"Say what you like, but we part company here. Unless you would rather fight us here and now."

"I don't want that," she said, confused. "Can't we say goodbye on civil terms? Let's shake on it."

He looked down at her proffered hand with apparent amusement: gripping her hand, he made the most perfunctory movement before dropping it. "Good luck, surfacer. I fear you will need it." He walked away followed by the ragtag group of ex-slaves.

"Why didn't you want them to join up?" she asked Valen as they started walking. "Was it because they didn't wait for us, or that he's an arrogant pig?"

"Neither. I think the ringleader recognised me. His face seems familiar."

"Where from? He isn't from Lith My'athar, is he?"

"No." He smiled grimly. "For some reason I tend to stand out in an army of drow. It's possible we saw each other across a battlefield, on opposite sides, but I can't be sure."

Cora realised her mistake. From the little she had learned of the drow, she knew there were few Houses that remained outside the yoke of the Valsharess. She slapped her forehead in frustration, wincing as she hit a bruise. "I've done it again, haven't I? Blundered in, without having a clue what's going on. I could have been inviting a spy into our midst."

"You could, but he didn't accept your offer, so no harm was done. Nor would I have let you."

Half-joking, she said, "Who's in charge around here anyway?"

"Deekin knows the answer - that be why yous called Boss!"

Valen's mouth twitched in amusement, but he said nothing.

"You tell him, Deeks!" said Cora, momentarily smiling. "Seriously, though, I know I haven't spent enough time talking with people around Lith My'athar. I report to the Seer, go to the overpriced merchant's stall and apart from that all I do is sleep. I should know more about the forces I'm supposed to be leading. I mean... I should really start acting like I live here, even though it's not forever."

"No, don't begin now."

"Do you think I'll mess up?"

"It's not about you. Even I am not closely involved with any of the drow, save for a few who are trusted by the Seer. There's a risk you will end up embroiled in their poisonous squabbles and rivalries. Sometimes it is better to stand apart. They will respect you more as a leader that way - that was my experience when I was made General."

"I can appreciate that, but doesn't it get lonely at times?"

"Too busy trying to stay alive to give it much thought," he said. His face took on a closed, neutral expression as if he did not wish to reveal too much. Cora wondered whether he had any people he considered real friends rather than comrades, or whether anyone would mourn his death save for the Seer if he fell in battle.

_I would. Even though you can be impossibly prickly at times and we don't always see eye to eye. _

0-0-0

Tomi lay still under the circular bed, listening to the sound of snoring. It made a change after all the moans, grunts and slapping sounds he had been listening to earlier. It was fun eavesdropping for a while, but after what seemed like hours, the novelty had worn off. He wouldn't have minded a chance to be in on the action, but he guessed that popping out from under the bed to introduce himself would gain him nothing more than a knife in the gut.

_Never mind, Tomi lad. Two blokes and one woman? Better if it was the other way around._

Listening carefully, he discerned more than one voice in the racket coming from above: one was a low rumble, the other more of a whistling sound. He hoped the third one was simply a quiet sleeper, and wasn't lying awake wondering when the other two would shut up. _Either way, I've had enough. _Tomi was hungry and thirsty: he was also a bit sick of breathing in dust down here.

Assuming his shadow form, he crept forward on his hands like a lizard, going slower than he would like because of the faint scrape of his studded armour on the floor. He was halfway out from underneath when one slim foot settled on the floor on one side of his shoulder, while the other hit the ground on the other side. The feet were so close that he didn't dare twitch a muscle, let alone retreat. In one movement the woman stood up, and as she walked into the privy he slipped back underneath.

_Bugger! Missed my chance again. Nice arse, though._

He hoped she would go back to bed once she returned, leaving the door open, but he was doomed to disappointment on both counts. She sat facing the bed, and began to brush her hair out with long, leisurely sweeps; once that task was over, she started to braid and pin it into an elaborate arrangement. Tomi observed that she didn't bother to take the looking-glass out from the chest: she used a smaller one to check her handiwork.

He toyed with the idea of making a dash for the door but if she spotted him, he was stuffed. He couldn't shift the blame to anyone else when he was the only halfling in the entire city. Besides that, he was getting more and more curious about the item in the chest. He would do all he could to get his hands on it, but for now he would have to be patient.

0-0-0

"I'm beginning to think we should take a break, if there's anywhere defensible," said Cora. All of them had untreated injuries which were not life-threatening, but would hamper them if they encountered any more enemies.

Valen's keen eyes scanned the landscape. "I recall that there's a small cave not far from here. It's high among the rocks, so it would be easy for one of us to keep watch."

It did not take him long to find the precise location, and after a brief scramble up a slope, they were inside. Cora was the first inside, helped with a leg-up by Valen. The cave was narrow and low-roofed, and she had to bend her knees slightly to avoid hitting her head. When Valen followed her, he didn't even try to stand up: he crawled inside.

"Are you sure you can cope with being in here?" she asked, remembering his attack of claustrophobia in Zorvak Mur.

He looked puzzled. "I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."

It was Deekin's turn to stand watch, and the little kobold made himself comfortable at the cave entrance while Valen and Cora settled down at the back. There was enough room for them to stretch out fully lengthways, but they were no more than an arm's length apart. Under her cloak, Cora unstrapped the bare minimum of armour so that she could nap comfortably, and settled down on her bedroll: Valen did the same.

Cora felt the need to break the silence. "Hopefully I won't get any weird dreams this time. I didn't exactly feel refreshed after waking up in the Elder Brain's lair."

"What did you dream about?" he asked.

"I saw Patrick, the man I was going to marry in the past. The dream felt very real at first - I had no inkling that I was dreaming. It took me a while to work out that something wasn't right. My hands were the same as anyone else's - I mean, any human - and Patrick told me they were always like that. That helped to break the illusion - because I knew he was lying. For the first time in my life I felt glad to have claws, even though it reminded me of the time when we broke up."

"What happened between you?"

She hesitated.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "It's not my business."

"No... I'd ask the same of you. We still had some months to go before our wedding date, and one weekend we visited a fair outside of town. We booked a room in the village inn, and that was when everything went wrong. You see, I hadn't been entirely open with him. I once told him I wore gloves because I had slightly deformed fingernails, but that was all. Since he seemed happy enough to hold hands with my gloves on, I didn't show him what I meant and I could never quite bring myself to tell him about the rest."

She paused. She felt awkward talking about the situation with a man, but he was the only other tiefling she had ever met. "That night at the inn, I asked him if he would accept me as I was, and he made a promise. But when he saw me - all of me - he was horrified." She still remembered his voice, the way the pitch had raised as he stared at her. _You're not normal. Marked, like an animal. You deceived me - tried to trap me! "_He went down to the bar and he didn't come back. I've seen him since, but we never spoke again."

"He sounds worthless," said Valen. "Less than a man."

Cora felt a guilty pleasure that Valen took such a dim view of him. "He couldn't cope with the truth of what I was. To him it wasn't the norm for a woman to have scaly markings on her legs, or black claws, or an unsightly bump on the base of her spine like a terrier's docked tail."

She froze. Was that what it really was? If so, who removed it?

"You're blaming yourself. Stop it." He sounded angry, she thought, but then he often did.

"I'm not. I can't help the way I look."

"Good, because there's _nothing_ wrong with you."

Of course Valen had seen most of her body, when she had been lying exposed on the altar in Drearing's Deep. Suddenly, she wanted to change the subject. "What happened in your own dream?"

"Like you, I dreamed about someone from my past. Imogen."

"Who was she?"

"She was a slave in the Abyss. My master Grimash't didn't use her as a battle slave, so she spent all of her time around his quarters. I... desired her, but until I came back from my encounter with the Seer, I felt nothing more. After my return I began to notice her small kindnesses, the fact that she wasn't entirely hardened and vicious yet. In the past I would have found such traits weak, but I was changing all the while." His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"Do you remember when I told you how Grimash't tortured me?"

"I could never forget something like that."

"Whenever Grimash't was away, she would slip in to the place where I was imprisoned, bringing me scraps of food or healing items, or sometimes just to talk. We made plans to escape but we knew it wouldn't be easy."

He fell silent. Cora guessed that his story would not have a happy ending. If they formed a bond in spite of such desperate circumstances, why wasn't she by his side now?

He spoke again out of the shadows. "I never found out who betrayed us, but I was not the only one who was caged like a prize exhibit. Anyone who saw the two of us whispering could have guessed what was going on. There was no loyalty among most of us, only the desperate urge for self-preservation. Once Grimash't learned about us, he brought her in front of me and killed her... slowly." His last words were whispered. "I had to watch."

His bitter words put her own old hurts into perspective, making them small and petty in comparison. "Valen, I'm so sorry. I know that words can't dull the pain, but... I needed to say it anyway."

She saw the easing of the lines of his face: she could never know his age, but as he had been talking just now he had looked older than usual. "Thank you. It is a while since it happened, and I have moved on... but it's not easy to talk about, even now."

"It's all right. You don't have to say any more."

"I should tell you my dream, since that's what started me on this topic. I was with Imogen and we were out of immediate danger for once in our lives. I should have been happy but I couldn't feel at peace. All the while I had an underlying feeling something was missing - that there was someone else who needed me, and I couldn't stay because I was letting her down."

She guessed he was talking about the Seer.

"As soon as my doubts crystallised, the illusion fell apart, and it wasn't Imogen standing before me any longer. I had to fight my way out of the dream. When I woke up, I saw that you were still asleep and then... I knew it was you."

"Me?" she asked, her voice a near-whisper.

He nodded.

_It doesn't mean anything. He protects me because that's what the Seer wants from him. Nothing more than that. _The more she told herself, the more she realised that she wanted him to care about her fate for its own sake.

"I heard your voice in the dream, warning me," she said, remembering.

"I'm glad you did." He gave her a hesitant smile. "Well, we survived once more... but I'm hardly helping you by talking your ear off. We should get some rest while we can."

0-0-0

Cora awoke from her nap feeling warm, but with a feeling of slight constriction around her waist. Looking down, she saw that Valen's tail was curled around her. Carefully, she twisted around , turning her head towards him: serpent-like, the tail flexed but it did not move away. Valen's back was turned to her: after watching him for a few moments, she was convinced he was fast asleep, and that his tail's embrace was entirely accidental. Smiling to herself, she reached downwards: his tail had fascinated her from the first day she saw it.

The tail tip barely moved as her fingers made tentative contact: it felt cooler to the touch than Valen's hands. Telling herself she was only curious about the skin's texture, she ran her fingertips gently along the surface. Valen made a sound which was somewhere between a groan and a sigh, and she froze. _He's not awake - is he? _ The tail jerked away abruptly, making her jump.

In the darkness, her face burned. She could not bring herself to look at him. She heard him moving, shifting position: although she did not look, she guessed he was sitting up.

Valen touched her shoulder softly. "Cora? I think we should get moving again."

"Mmmph." She rubbed at her eyes, wondering whether she looked at all convincing.

0-0-0

As she approached the gates of Lith My'athar Cora noticed two familiar sensations: one was a dull grinding ache in her abdomen, and the other was a faint trickle down her inner thigh. _Oh, great. _She could be thankful that it happened here: her flux would have been a much bigger nuisance whilst travelling outside of the camp. She remembered that Gulhrys sold a tincture that was supposed to prevent the onset of menses if taken daily, and she regretted not buying some last time around. She didn't know how much longer she was going to be here: she made a mental note to get a bottle next time she saw the merchant.

"We should report back to the Seer," said Valen.

"I need to go to my room first: there's something I need to attend to. You two go on ahead, and I'll see you in there."

Having dealt with the minor inconvenience, she was about to leave her room when she heard a soft tapping on the door. On opening it, she saw a man with a vaguely familiar face: she guessed she had seen him around the Temple before.

He bowed to her. "I have been summoned to fetch you, Mistress Daxunyrr."

"Oh, there's no need. I was on my way to the Temple anyway," she said breezily, coming out and locking the door behind her.

"Please, it is the Matron of House Maeviir who wishes to see you."

She had never met the woman before. "I'm supposed to be meeting the Seer. Could it wait until later?"

The young man looked anxious. "The Matron asked that I brought you to her as soon as you entered the city."

She wondered if he was going to get in trouble over it, if she refused. "Do you know what it's about?"

"She didn't say, Mistress - only that it was an important matter."

Her curiosity was piqued, even though Valen had warned her to keep aloof from the locals. "I can't dally there for long."

"I am sure the Matron will get to the point quickly," he said, giving her another nervous smile.

"All right. Lead on, and we'll go and see your Matron. By the way, I'm sure I've seen you around the Temple of Lolth - what's your name?"

He hesitated for a heartbeat before telling her. "Malagdrin."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

errdegahr le'i = demon kin

Daxunyrr = Saviour


	23. Chapter 23 Assumptions

_This one took a while to update - ironically the first scene was written while I was still working on chapter 22, but some RL stuff cropped up which completely took my mind off writing. I'm grateful to my other half, who helped to get me thinking about this story again and did a bit of brainstorming of his own. _

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. The following is addressed to sane: I really wanted to send a pm but couldn't do that as you're not logged in. I'm glad you like the details and foreshadowing. Pacing influenced the decision not to include Valen's point of view last time around. On reflection it would have been good to include his thoughts but I couldn't find a place where it felt quite right at the time. As for your suspicions about a certain something, you're about to find out. :) _

_On with the story...._

**-----------------------------------**

**Chapter 23 - Assumptions**

Cora had never met the Matron of House Maeviir before. She had the air of a surface noblewoman, with her sumptuous robes and her elaborate hairstyle. Myrune regarded her guest with equal curiosity before summoning one of her men with an imperious gesture. "Captain Tebimar, pour our guest some wine."

As he did as the Matron asked, Cora heard Enserric's voice in her mind.

_Don't be too hasty to take a sip. Something feels off, to me. _

_You're getting as mistrustful as Valen, _thought Cora, but as Tebimar poured, she thought she heard the sound of a key turning in a lock. Turning round, she saw Malagdrin walking away from the doorway where he had been standing, and he gave her a mild, innocent smile when she made eye contact with him. _I probably misheard, _she thought, but she left her goblet untouched.

"So you are the woman whom the Seer calls our Saviour," said Myrune.

"So they say, but I prefer to be called Cora," she replied. Cora had not dealt with any Matron Mothers before: she wasn't quite sure how the Seer fitted in, being both a priestess and a leader. She would be polite, but not excessively deferential. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"I understand you arrived here in the Underdark after a geas was placed upon you. Tell me, have you ever found a way to lift the geas?"

Cora noticed the woman's hands twisting in her lap as if she was agitated, in spite of the fact that she was receiving a guest into her own domain. "No, I haven't. I tried asking the Seer about it when I first came here, and-"

"Tell me," interrupted Myrune. "What did she say to you?"

Cora wondered why she couldn't ask the Seer directly if she was so keen to know. "If I remember correctly, the Seer said that only Halaster himself could lift my geas. Failing that, the only option is to do as he wishes and kill the Valsharess."

"There's no other way?"

"If there is, I don't know about it."

"Will you comply?"

Enserric's voice mused in her mind again. _ What exactly is behind her curiosity, I wonder? _

"Of course. I don't want to die."

"Would you do it without the geas?"

"The Valsharess is attacking the surface, _my_ land," said Cora. "She also sent an assassin to kill me. Both are good reasons for us to be natural enemies, but beyond that, I feel loyal to some of the people who are under threat here."

"Fair points." Her gaze slipped down to the table before Cora. "You haven't had a drop of your wine yet."

"It's kind of you to offer, but I really should keep my head clear, as I'm supposed to be meeting my colleagues at the Temple of Lolth soon - and honestly, I have a terrible head for alcohol. One drink and I'm no use to anyone for the rest of the day." _Oh, stop babbling and cut this short. "_Was there anything else you wanted to ask me, before I leave?"

"I won't detain you for much longer, but I insist on a toast. To victory." She beamed at Cora over her own upraised glass before tipping the wine down her throat.

"To victory against the Valsharess." Cora took the smallest sip she could manage: the wine was full-bodied and inky, the kind that would give her a headache if she had too much. She guessed there were no vineyards in the Underdark, but refrained from asking where the wine came from in case it was one of the spoils from a surface raid.

The Matron stood up, no longer smiling. "I believe you've met my daughter before, haven't you?"

"I'm not sure," Cora said. "What's her name?"

"Zesyyr," she said, her expression now stony.

With a sinking feeling, Cora recognised the name as the woman who had tried to bribe her to kill her mother. Was Myrune about to make a counter-offer? "The name rings a bell," she said, her voice non-committal. "I may have met her briefly in the past."

"I _know _you have, and I'm also aware of what she wanted from you," the Matron said. She turned her attention to the guard on her left. "Captain Tebimar?"

When he walked up to her, she whispered in his ear: his eyes widened before he whispered something back. Matron Myrune's next words were audible but it made no difference to Cora, since they were spoken in Drow. The tone of voice suggested an order, and the Matron repeated the same to Malagdrin.

Finding the private conversation less than civil, Cora stood up. "I can see you have much to discuss, Matron Myrune. I won't take up any more of your time."

The next sound Cora heard was the hiss of drawn steel from the guards flanking Myrune. Cora stood up. "Wait! I never accepted Zesyyr's offer - I found it abhorrent."

"No matter. This isn't just about my daughter, surfacer. You are not the only one to suffer a geas," said Myrune, bitter anger in her eyes.

"Geas? What geas?"

The Matron answered by raising her hands to chant an incantation: her men dashed forwards.

Cora kicked the table over, the goblet smashing on the tiles as she ran around the back of the chair.

_Three against one. Not so good. _Myrune's spell reached her before the guards did, and she shuddered as she felt the bite of ice on her skin. The spell slowed her movements just enough to make fighting the two guards an even more serious threat. Backed into a corner, she struggled to block them: she had no chance to injure them.

Across the room, she heard Myrune starting another incantation, which cut off abruptly with an agonised cry. Distracted, Malagdrin turned his head, giving Cora the change to push Enserric between a gap in his flimsy armour. The thrust left her open to a counter-blow from Tebimar. Instead of following up, inexplicably he ran from her. Malagdrin was still fighting weakly, bleeding copiously as he was, and her blade found another opening, this time driving into his neck.

"Here comes halfling death!"

Cora couldn't quite believe her ears, but as she left the dying drow behind, she saw that Tomi was gamely battling Tebimar on the other side of the room. Matron Myrune was lying face-down nearby, her robe saturated with blood from a wound in her back. Seeing Tomi struggling, Cora hurried to aid him.

"Two against one," she panted as she drove her sword against the drow, spurred on by an odd mix of cold anger and renewed optimism.

"That'll teach 'im!" yelled Tomi.

After Tebimar fell to the floor, Cora spoke to Tomi. "I have no idea why you're here, but I could kiss you for it."

"Don't let me stop ya," he said, puckering up. Bending over, she gave him a swift peck on the cheek.

"Was that it? No tongues?"

"You're incorrigible," she said, pulling out a couple of potion bottles and handing one of them to him.

"Spoilsport. I guess this'll have to do." He swigged down the healing potion in one thirsty gulp.

"Where did you come from, anyway?"

"Just now? Under the bed. I'll tell you more later, eh? We'd better be leaving - but I've got one last thing to do first."

Someone banged on the door: Cora heard Tomi swear under his breath, but he still rummaged within the treasure chest.

_Here we are with a dead Matron Mother and a houseful of her followers outside. This doesn't look good. _"We don't have time for that! What are we going to do?"

"You can grab this, for a start, and then we'll get out through the window."

Cora recognised the Mirror of All-Seeing as soon as Tomi hefted it out of the chest. She had no time for more questions, for the hammering on the door was reaching a crescendo. Shoving the mirror into her pack, she hurried after Tomi, who opened up another door.

"Shit," Tomi said as he stared up at the narrow opening. "Didn't think of that, did I?"

Not only was Tomi little more than half Cora's height, but his hips were half her width. She would never squeeze through the privy window.

With a splintering crash, the door in the adjoining room gave way. A group of drow stared first at the dead Matron, then back at Cora.

_Five of them. No, ten: there's more behind. No..._

Behind her, Cora heard Tomi mutter something about getting reinforcements.

"No time," she said, but it made little difference whether Tomi was there or not. The drow were advancing into the room.

"This isn't how it appears at all," Cora said, talking too fast. "I'll explain everything, but please, send for the Seer. She will be able to tell whether I'm telling the truth or not." _I hope. She didn't exactly confirm Tomi's innocence._

"We don't follow the Seer, rivvil. We follow our Matron, and you have-"

A woman interrupted him, speaking sharply in their mother tongue. Her manner suggested that she was pulling rank, and the man bowed to her before leaving the room. "Some of us have been expecting this for some time now," she said. "The heir to House Maeviir will arrive here soon, and she will decide what to do."

The tense silence which followed was eventually broken by the sound of raised voices came from downstairs. In the hallway, the small crowd parted, clearing a space for the new arrival.

Cora recognised the face of the young woman immediately. "Zesyyr."

Zesyyr gave her a cursory glance before walking up to the corpse. "Goodbye, mother," she said, before looking up at Cora. "It looks as if I am now _Matron _Zesyyr_. _You have earned my thanks, and that of House Maevir - or most of us."

The new Matron turned to her people to utter an order: several left the room, rushing up a flight of steps in the hallway. "We need to deal with a lingering vermin problem, but that will be over soon," she told Cora. "After that I can trust that everyone here is faithful to me."

_Until you have daughters of your own, _thought Cora, chilled by Zesyyr's ruthless efficiency. Cora watched the young woman's face: she could not discern any sign of sorrow or regret. Kneeling down, the drow took her mother's hand, and Cora wondered if she had misjudged her. Her illusions were shattered as Zesyyr ripped a ring from one of the fingers, wiping it on a clean corner of the gown before putting it on.

"I am glad you didn't rob the corpse," said the heiress.

"No, we haven't taken a single thing - have we, Tomi?" Even to herself, Cora's voice sounded fake: lying had never been her forte. She felt a surreptitious kick against her calf.

Cora felt a churning in her stomach: the cramps were worse than usual and were accompanied by a dragging sense of weakness. "We should leave you to...settle in," she said. She had been about to say 'mourn', but the word seemed inappropriate.

"Certainly, but first I owe you a reward. We agreed on 20,000 in payment, yes?"

"Look, I'm not sure I want blood money-"

"She's only kidding!" said Tomi loudly. "Cora's always having a laugh. I mean, we need the gold to get ourselves fixed up all shiny and new, don't we?"

Reluctantly, Cora conceded the point: in spite of all the treasure they found, their expenses kept piling up. "Very well. I'll take the reward."

As a lackey ran to fetch the gold, Cora spoke again to Zesyyr. "You once warned me that your mother would betray us all when war came, but you would stand by the Seer once you were in charge. Will you stick to your vow?"

Zesyyr regarded her coolly. "I don't recall making any vow, but I have no desire to be like my mother, hiding away in my own House quaking in fear. I will not be ground under anyone else's heel, least of all that of Sinvyl Barita'ar. My army will fight alongside yours - as allies, for now."

_My army? I have enough trouble leading a party of four. _Cora found the reminder of her elevated status daunting, but she made sure that she did not show it. "I'm glad to hear it, Matron Zesyyr. We'll beat the Valsharess together."

0-0-0

Tired of waiting for Cora to turn up, Valen reported to the Seerabout their successes and failures in Zorvak Mur.

"Good news, on the whole. On the one hand you have destroyed the settlement, which is excellent, but the other illithid settlements are highly likely to join the Valsharess's army."

"I'm afraid so. We need to take them into account when planning for the final battle." Valen felt a tug on his hand, then another: looking down, he saw that Deekin was pestering him.

"Umm... Deekin been thinking. You remember those grey helmets that shield against the evil tentacle men? The ones that not fit yous because you gots goat horns?"

"For the last time, they are _not _goat horns - but what about the helmets?"

"There be lots of dead slavers lying around in illithid camp now. Maybe someone can go pick their helmets up so drow rebel army can use them?"

"That's a marvellous idea," said the Seer. "I'll send a group out with a small cart to collect them. Well done!" She patted Deekin on the shoulder: he looked as if he was about to faint with happiness.

"Don't you think it was a good idea, Valen?" prompted the Seer, winking at him above the kobold's eyeline.

"You did well this time," he conceded.

"Deekin be much smarter than he looks! Wait until Boss hears about this!"

"You'll need to find her first. What's taking her so long?"

"Deekin knows lots of things, but he not able to see what Boss be doing when she not with him. She be constipated, maybes?"

Valen exchanged a this-is-what-I-have-to-contend-with glance with the priestess. He couldn't help wondering if Cora was still harbouring resentment towards the Seer, but she didn't seem the type to play petty games with people. "Did you find out anything more about the Mirror of All-Seeing?"

"I tried. I thought I had a lead - a vision - but nothing of substance came of it yet. It's disappointing. I should have used the Mirror when I had the chance, but it's too late now."

The doors to the Temple suddenly burst open, and one of the scouts came running through. She rushed to the Seer.

"Mother Seer - something has happened inside House Maeviir. There's quite a commotion outside and Zesyyr just went into the building."

"Zesyyr - are you certain? The Matron would never allow her inside. Unless..." The Seer glanced at Valen, worry etched on her face.

He knew what she was thinking. "We should go and take a look."

"You wants Deekin to come too?"

"No, my little friend. I don't think that will be necessary," said the Seer.

Outside, Valen immediately saw the crowd gathered around the House. As he reached the press of drow, he could overhear snatches of conversation. More than once he heard people saying that Myrune must surely be dead. The door opened and he saw Zesyyr addressing the crowd. To his frustration, none of her speech was quite audible from the back, and she quickly went back inside.

"This is hopeless," he said to the Seer. "We need to get to the entrance." He prepared to push his way through, but he stopped as he saw the doors opening again.

Cora was standing by the door with Tomi; both of them looked dishevelled. Valen moved forward, shoving others aside, not looking back to check if the Seer was keeping up. Raised up as she was on the steps, he could see Cora sharing a word or two with Tomi. As she walked down the steps, he couldn't see her at first, but there she was again, walking his way, with the crowd parting in her stead.

As she neared him, he saw the blood spattered on her armour. "What happened?" _What have you got yourself involved in this time?_

"Long story," she said, her voice muted.

"I need to know what's going on," he insisted. "Is Matron Myrune dead?"

He couldn't help noticing her hesitation, and the way she averted her brown eyes. "Yes."

"How? Who killed her? Why?"

She passed her hand over her forehead, inadvertently smearing blood on her brow. "Let's take this somewhere else. This isn't a good place."

She looked so bleary-eyed that Valen wondered if she had been drinking. _A celebratory drink with Zesyyr, after doing her dirty work? _He still remembered the time when he had overheard Zesyyr make her cold little business proposition to Cora.

"What did I tell you a while ago, about not getting involved with their schemes?"

She stared back at him, clearly annoyed. "I didn't even _want _to get involved. You don't have a clue what happened in there, have you?"

Since you haven't told me yet, clearly not," he said._ But there has to be more to this than a __contract killing. There must be another explanation. _He didn't know whether it was wishful thinking, but he desperately hoped it was the truth. He had seen Cora killing enemies many times now, but never before without provocation, never for profit alone.

The Seer caught up with them. "Cora! Are you all right?"

"Just a few cuts. I've taken a healing potion, but I'm feeling a bit off colour."

Valen felt a stab of guilt: he had been so busy debating her motives that he hadn't thought she might be suffering from her injuries.

"You look pale: stand still and I'll see what I can do." The priestess laid her hands on Cora's temples. Valen saw the Seer's white eyebrows knotting as she said "This isn't helping as much as it should. Are you feeling worse?"

Cora nodded. "I feel weak. I need to sit down."

"Let's get you to your room - Valen, help her there. I need to go to the Temple, to get some antidote."

"Antidote?" said Valen, alarmed. "You mean it's-"

"Poison?" said Cora, completing his sentence.

"Please don't worry. I very much doubt it's a fatal dose, but it's always best to treat these things." With those words, the Seer left them, running as fleet-footed as a scout in spite of her years.

"I took a sip of wine," said Cora. "I should have known better-"

"Don't talk now," said Valen, no longer in any hurry to have a full explanation. "Lean on me," he added before putting an arm around her waist, and they walked on in silence.

When her quarters were in sight, he noticed that she was leaning more heavily on him: he looked down and saw the sheen of sweat on her forehead. "Shall I carry you?"

"I'm not that ill!" He didn't agree, but she carried on putting one foot in front of the other and he wasn't going to tire her out more by fighting with her over it.

0-0-0

There was one book in Madame Elista's collection which was not stored on her bookshelves: instead it was hidden away in a sturdy yew chest. Taking it out, she leafed through the worn pages, damaged and yellowed with age. It did not help that some pages were charred at the corners.

At her age her memory played tricks with her; Although she sometimes had trouble remembering recent events, she could recalled that final argument between her parents as if it were yesterday. Through a locked door, she had heard Father shouting that his marriage was holding him back in his search for knowledge. Mother retorted that even if he were a greater magician than Halaster, he would still be a failed husband and father. He left that night, and never came back. Mother made a bonfire of his personal effects. The single book Elista rescued from the fire was her only keepsake.

She found mentors after leaving home, but her magical education progressed at a snail's pace when she wanted to fly. She always craved more, and was fully prepared to take risks in order to learn: perhaps it was in her blood. She often wondered whether her father had been equally reckless, whether he had done half of the things he speculated about in his journal. _ Did you burn __yourself with your own magic, just as I did? _

_I'll probably never know the truth, and these days, that's for the best. _She paged past the section on summoning, including his underlined note to himself saying 'I must take care. These outsiders can be tricky.' _He was right, but I doubt it ever stopped him, either._

At the end of that section was an addendum about influencing someone whilst they were dreaming, out of place and clearly added at a later date. His knowledge of the subject was incomplete, but her own experience could fill in the gaps. The risks were minor when casting a spell on someone whose own magical knowledge had not advanced beyond casting a fireball, but it would tax her vitality, just as her recent efforts with controlling her familiar had done. _I don't even know whether it paid off, but this rite should help me find out._

Going to her kitchen, she took out the dried herbs she would need, plus a small, carved box. Within it was a single coil of black hair, plucked from her antimacassar after Cora had visited her. She should have asked for something personal like a ring or a scarf, in payment for her fortune-telling, but at least the girl had left one small physical link behind.

_Good, everything's assembled. Now I can begin._

0-0-0

Cora had woken up more than once from unsettled dreams to see Deekin sitting beside her bed, but now she was in the soothsayer's house, drinking spiced tea out of a fine porcelain cup, with a cushion propping up her back.

_Hang on. That's confusing._

"How did I get here?" she asked, putting down her cup. "Is it all over?"

"Not yet, my dear," said the old woman. "Don't worry about the whys and wherefores: I'll send you back to the Underdark soon enough. I need you to listen to me first. What I have to tell you is of vital importance..."

Suddenly she heard another voice, deep and undeniably male, and the scene in front of her eyes stopped making any sense to her. "Get off."

She felt a weight shifting fast over her chest, followed by its absence and an aggrieved yowl. She was lying down, not sitting up. Blinking her eyes open, she saw a fall of bright hair, and the curve of horns: Valen was crouching down, peering underneath her bed.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

He straightened up. "Trying to find the cat. It's hiding from me now." He grimaced. "I was trying to stop it from waking you up."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'm feeling parched anyway." She stretched out towards the pitcher of water by her bed, and stopped when she noticed that her arm was bare. Save for a hastily-constructed, uncomfortable pad and belt arrangement, she was wearing little more than the bedcovers. For a brief moment she felt mortified, until she recalled that the Seer helped to unbuckle her armour after kicking everyone else out of the room. Afterwards the priestess had given her an emetic, followed by something which tasted even worse, with strict orders to keep it down this time. Her memories were fuzzy after that.

Valen poured the water for her. "It's safe to drink," he said. "I've already had some and I'm still here."

Carefully wriggling up to a sitting position whilst holding the blankets over herself, she took the cup from him. The water didn't quite take away the odd metallic taste on her tongue, but it helped.

She remembered seeing Valen outside in the square, shortly before she fell ill: his manner had stopped barely short of being accusatory. She guessed that he had jumped to conclusions which were far from flattering. _I shouldn't mind, but I do. _

"Did the Seer ask you to watch over me?" she asked.

"No. I wondered how you were faring, and when I came here, your kobold was on the verge of falling asleep in his chair. So I told him I was taking over."

"I never told you what happened." Another thought came to her, and she looked around, worried. "Where's my pack?"

"It's here on the floor, but the Seer has the Mirror, if you're concerned about that. Tomi told us about the attempted assassination, or most of it. It's still unclear to me what he was doing in House Maeviir in the first place."

"I don't know either, but my chances would have been worse without him turning up, so I'm not going to press him too hard. I'm glad he was there."

"So am I. You have incredible luck at times."

"Apart from my unfortunate habit of getting poisoned, you mean?"

"If you're anything like me, you probably have some level of poison resistance, even if it doesn't always feel that way. Your ancestry might have saved your life."

"All right, my heritage has its uses after all, and I must have some rare luck to compensate for my lack of judgement," she said, only half-joking. "I trusted the man who invited me to House Maeviir. I couldn't help wondering what the Matron wanted, but I was ready to say no if she wanted me to do any shady jobs. I assumed I'd be safe in this city."

He was studying her: she wondered what he was thinking.

"You're too trusting sometimes," he said, although his tone of voice was gentle.

"You're the opposite. There are downsides to that attitude too."

"I'm fully aware of it." He raked his fingers through his hair.

She had never seen him wear his hair loose before, even during rest times: it was thick and shiny, almost straight save for a slight kink where he usually tied it back, and fell just past his shoulders. She guessed it would be silky to the touch, unlike her own springy curls. _It sets off those chiselled cheekbones perfectly. If only he would smile more often. He's looking deadly serious, again._

He interlaced his fingers, leaning on his elbows. "When I saw you coming out of House Maeviir, with blood on your armour, I thought...I assumed..."

Since he seemed to be having trouble spitting it out, she prompted him. "That I murdered someone's mother for 20,000 gold?"

He nodded, looking unhappy. "At first I did, although I started to have doubts soon afterwards. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. You didn't deserve to be prejudged by me, and I'm... sorry."

"You don't have to say this." _But I'm glad you did, all the same._

"Yes I do. I need to." He paused. "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I can!" Her state of undress was the one thing that stopped her from leaping out of bed and hugging him. She grinned at him. "Don't do it again."

She saw his mouth twitch: he caved in and smiled back at her. "Is that an order?"

"Perhaps. I can never work out who's in charge around here."

"Either way, I'll make you a promise. If you do something I don't understand, I won't assume the worst."

His apology made her feel disproportionately happy, but something else came to mind which quickly sobered her. If he was prepared to make an honest admission, so should she. "Zesyyr paid me for my trouble. I didn't want to take her money, but Tomi did, and I relented. I'll try to put it to good use, such as a new enchantment for Enserric."

"Good idea," he said. "The new Matron hasn't told anyone that her mother tried to kill you, by the way."

"My fault. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, so I let her believe what she wanted. What a mess this whole situation is. Do you think I should make some kind of announcement?"

"No. It's better this way. Some of the Seer's closest followers know the truth, but none of them mix with the other rebels socially. I suspect you've gone up in the estimation of House Maeviir and the remants of the other Houses. They will look upon you as a powerful female, and respect you for it, if they had any doubts before now."

After she had walked out of House Maeviir, people had moved out of her way, staring at her with curiosity rather than hostility. "No matter what I do, I'll forever remain clueless when it comes to drow ways."

"Clueless? Now that's a term we used in Sigil, for Primes who found their way into the city through one of the doors."

"And now I'm completely in the dark, because I don't know what you mean by Primes."

"Primes are people who come from the Prime Material Plane - here and the surface, in other words."

"Will you ever go back, after this war is over?" _Would you like a travelling companion, even if she was on the clueless side? _Aware that she might be rebuffed, she couldn't quite bring herself to voice the idea out loud.

"It's tempting, if I could find a portal." A cloud crossed his face. "I don't know... I wonder if I would feel the Blood Wars calling to me again, even against my will. Besides, I have responsibilities here. I owe a debt to the Seer because of all that she's done for me in the past."

_Of course he'll stay here. Just because he said something nice for a change, it doesn't mean I should get the wrong idea. _Putting her disappointment firmly to one side, she yawned. "Your devotion to the Seer is admirable." _ And I don't feel jealous at all. Do I?_ "I should really go and speak with her."

"Don't go yet. The Seer wishes you to take as much time to recuperate as possible, and she's probably busy at present. She plans to use the Mirror to check the movements of the enemy forces before we go anywhere else. She promised to tell us straight away if she found out anything important."

"She's not wasting any time," Cora said, stifling another involuntary yawn. "Not that I can blame her, now she has the chance to use it again. I hope it helps."

"I'm sure it will." He reached out, touching her on the shoulder. She glanced down at his hand, at the contrast of his skin against hers, then back up at his face.

"I'm tiring you. You should get some more rest while you still have the chance," he said, taking his hand away. "I'll stay, in case you need anything."

"Thank you," she said, turning around. _Need anything? _She thought of the warmth of his touch, and of the way his tail had curled around her the last time they were out in the Underdark, and her mouth curved in a secret smile.


	24. Chapter 24 Sympathy for the Devil

**Chapter 24 - Sympathy for the Devil**

Cora knew she was dreaming but like a fly caught within a web, she felt unable to escape. She was standing inside a summoner's circle, in a room she had seen before. A drow female stood before her, arrogant and beautiful, her lithe figure squeezed into a black leather corset. Cora had seen her before, but this time she knew it was the Valsharess.

"We meet again, Cora."

Cora found her voice. She could not escape from the dream, but at least she could speak. "Not by any choice of mine."

The Valsharess strolled around the perimeter of the summoning circle, watching Cora as if studying a zoo exhibit. "It's interesting that you should mention choice. I know all about what's happened to you, here in the Underdark. You've been forced into taking sides against me. Don't you get sick of being a puppet?"

"I'm no-one's puppet and I still haven't forgotten how you tried to have me killed in Waterdeep."

"Ah, yes. A minor test of your power, which you passed more than adequately. Tell me something... do you _like _the Seer?"

The change of subject threw Cora. "Of course I like her! She's a good woman, fighting for a noble cause."

"So she tells you. I can see how her manner would impress someone from Toril, with her mild words and her reverence for surface values."

"Surface values? We're not all identical up there, you know. Besides, I thought Eilistraee was a drow Goddess."

"She is, but she is an outcast among us for a reason. Her path denies our essential nature, making us weak. We are what we are, and we could not survive here without our way of life, harsh though it seems to outside eyes. A priestess like the Seer is just as power-hungry as I am, but she rules through subtle manipulation. In fact she hasn't been honest with you. Did you know that?"

Cora doubted the Valsharess's own honesty far more, but curiosity got the better of her. "What do you mean?"

"She has lied to you twice, possibly more times. Did she feign surprise about the geas when she first met you, as if she hadn't planned it long in advance with the mad mage Halaster?"

Cora didn't grace the question with an answer.

"Tight-lipped, I see," said the Valsharess, looking amused. "That was only the first lie. I should imagine that she told you the geas couldn't be lifted, as well."

"Halaster is the only one with the power."

"Wrong. An experienced priestess like the Seer should be capable of removing it, but she would never admit it to you. If you knew that, you would have lost all sympathy for her cause, and you would have been nowhere near as obliging. Fortunately for you, I also have the power to lift your geas. All I need is your consent to free you of your burden."

"Without any price to pay? I'm not _that_ gullible."

The Valsharess laughed. "I can see you're a smart woman. We would need to come to an agreement, of course...but I would not conceal my terms, unlike our Eilstraeean acquaintance."

Cora wondered how her adversary had learned so much. She could do a little digging of her own while she was here. "How is it that you know so much about what's been going on with me?"

"I am a sorceress of considerable power and that is why I can summon you in a dream. I have help, too. I don't need pathetic trinkets like magic mirrors, especially when they get turned against the user all too often." She smirked. "With such a powerful being as an archdevil under my command, I have been able to learn a good deal about you."

"Under your command? You mean he's bound to you."

"Of course. Do you think that dread Mephistopheles, the Lord of the Eighth Hell, would have worked for me willingly?"

"So I'm to trust a woman who goes around binding archdevils? That doesn't sound much different from a geas, from where I'm standing."

The Valsharess lifted her eyebrows. "What's this? Sympathy for the devil? How strange. I know what you are, Cora: I knew all along. You're a Tanar'ling, just like the Seer's horned lover. An instinctive enemy of the Baatezu."

Cora's mind wasn't on Mephistopheles. Only one word echoed in her mind, over and over like a drumbeat. "Lover? You're kidding. She's centuries older than him!"

"Do you think that age is important to us, when our lives far outstrip yours? It seems the Seer has hidden the truth from you yet again. If you desire the male for yourself, she must have guessed that it would trouble you. She didn't even share him with you. Can't you see the web of lies she has spun around you? Perhaps she has more affinity to spiders than you think."

"I don't believe one word of this," Cora said vehemently.

"Then why are you angry? Look at me. I offer you something that the Seer won't give you... the truth, and along with it, power, freedom, and all the sensual pleasures of life. We could be partners, or more. You are a woman who possesses both beauty and prowess in battle: you don't need to be treated like a child, patted on the head and deluded."

"You're wasting your time. I would never help someone like you."

The Valsharess's expression changed. "So, just like her, you will deny your true nature, and lie, even to yourself? I was wrong about you, wael." She turned to something in the distance, something huge and dark and looming. "Deal with her!"

Cora didn't hear the answer: she struggled against her invisible bonds, gasping.

Someone was patting her hand, trying to comfort her. She thought of Valen, and the scene began to fade. _He's always there when I need him, pulling me out of the dark places. _

She clutched at the hand, felt cold, scaly skin. She blinked, and she saw a pair of large, doglike eyes gazing faithfully back at her.

"Yous all right, Boss?"

"Deeks? Where's Valen?"

"Boss wants his company instead of little Deekin?" he asked, a hurt tone creeping into his rasping voice.

"No - of course I'm glad to see you! It was just that he was here when I went to sleep."

"Deekin told Goatman that the pretty drow priestess lady wanted to see him, and that made him leave, but he gives Deekin all sorts of instructions that Deekin not needs first. He forgets that Deekin knows healing spells."

"Of course you know what to do...but what did the Seer want?"

"She nots want anything, as far as Deekin knows. Deekin made it up so Goatman would not sit around in here glaring."

"He's got a name, you know. He's got a kind side, too, once you get to know him properly."

"It be different for yous, Boss. Especially lately, when he keep looking at yous like you be birthday cake."

"He wants to cut me up with a cake-slice and then gobble me up?"

"He looks at yous like Deekin does at special leatherbound journal he can'ts afford."

Cora had seen that look in Deekin's eyes before: she had given into it at the time, buying the bard the tome so that he could write up the manuscript for Shadows of Undrentide in a neat, presentable form. _Longing - but if that's true, why was Valen so keen to rush away to the Seer? _As soon as she had the thought, she felt guilty. He was doing his duty to someone he owed his sanity to, and she couldn't begrudge him that. _I won't believe the Valsharess and her lies. She'll say anything to undermine us._

0-0-0

It quickly became obvious to Valen that the Seer had not summoned him at all. Still, while he was here, he could ask her a question or two. "Have you discovered the Valsharess's movements yet?"

"Not yet. I must confess that I haven't yet looked."

"You are still biding your time with the Mirror? Have you no concern that it could go missing again?"

"Have patience, good Valen," said the Seer mildly.

"Patience is a luxury for those who have time. I suspect we're fast running out of it."

The artefact in question was in front of both of them: Valen could see his reflection, nothing more, but still he could sense a presence around it which suggested it was far more than an ordinary looking-glass. If the Seer was going to dally much longer, he would be tempted to grab the artefact and attempt to use it himself.

"I know I was over-cautious in the past when I held off from using the Mirror," she said. "This time it is not without foundation, and I have made a discovery, of sorts. While you were away in Zorvak Mur, I had a vision of a spell, something malign and binding."

"Like a geas?"

"Ah, you anticipate me. When I had the vision, I went out looking for traces of the magic. I felt a faint disturbance around House Maeviir, but the feeling was not strong enough to be conclusive. Now that I have the Mirror of All-Seeing in my possession, I feel it more strongly, as if the Mirror retains a dusting of ash from a fire that has burned away. I hope I am right that its power is spent, for it seems likely that the spell is the same geas that affected Matron Myrune."

Valen considered her words for a moment before speaking. "Do you know who cast the spell?"

"I remember the two of you telling me of the shattering of the Mirror, when you first brought it to me. That was the result of Halaster's magic, but I doubt this spell is his. No, if anyone was to place a geas with the intent to harm Cora, it would be the woman she is destined to fight. The magic feels like the Valsharess's handiwork."

"How? She isn't here."

"How did she chain Halaster, or Mephistopheles? She is nothing if not skilled. I have a couple of theories. One is that Myrune planned to betray us long in advance, and she stole the Mirror in order to communicate with the Valsharess. It's plausible enough, but wouldn't explain the spell. Otherwise, I wonder whether Myrune wished to spy on Zesyyr, but was also drawn to find out the Valsharess's movements. Perhaps the Valsharess, knowing about the Mirror, was waiting for someone to spy upon her and had prepared some kind of a trap in advance?"

"You don't sound entirely sure."

"I can be sure about nothing - and that's why I have been so cautious. All I have is my insights, but they have served me well so far. The balance in the Valsharess's favour has been tipped, and our Saviour remains alive. We must stay hopeful." She tilted her head, gazing at Valen. "How is she?"

"She looks much better, and was sleeping soundly when I left her. I only hope the kobold doesn't disturb her."

"I'm sure she will be fine, just as she was with you. I noticed that you needed no prompting to go and keep watch over her...you care about her, don't you?"

The Seer had _that _look on her face, and Valen had the familiar discomfiting feeling that his inner thoughts were exposed to her.

"She's done more to help us than I expected, and I appreciate her efforts," he said carefully.

"She has indeed...and I'm sure she will do more still, before she returns to the surface."

He knew that Cora had no liking for the Underdark. If Cora prevailed against the Valsharess she would return to Waterdeep, hailed as a heroine among the surfacers...and he? He would feel obliged to stay with the drow rebels, and wonder what could have been.

"It doesn't have to be that way," said the Seer, as if he had answered her aloud. "You are free to go where you wish, and you are not beholden to me."

"I am," he said immediately. "Without you, I would still be caught up in the Blood Wars."

"Now you spend much of your time fighting in the Underdark - you must feel that little has changed, no?"

"No. _Everything _has changed - and I owe a debt to you that can never be repaid."

"You should reconsider that statement after you help us to defeat the Valsharess," she countered. "Besides that, I suspect that you have another path to follow now. When you first met Cora, I could not have imagined you watching over her whilst she was ill, unbidden by anyone else, or caring about her fate."

"Nor could I," he admitted. He had whiled away the last few hours reading the battered book on her bedside, immediately recognising her as the heroine of the story, in spite of the ridiculous exaggerations of its author. Who else would have such an inerrant ability to get into trouble and an equally uncanny talent for getting out again? The book amused him in spite of his determination to despise it, and he had felt an unaccustomed peace in the presence of the sleeping woman. He had listened to the slow, peaceful rhythm of her breathing, just as he would have if they were lovers. _But we're not...and she probably still harbours feelings for the stupid, effete squire who rejected her. _

"You have made great strides in regaining your humanity, and now you have the company of the most human tiefling you could possibly meet, because of her past. She can teach you..." She closed her mouth.

"What were you about to say?"

She gave him an enigmatic smile. "I don't need to spell it out. I think you are already learning."

0-0-0

Nearly two surface days had passed since Cora dreamed of the Valsharess: two days of oversleeping, repeated healing spells and endless speculation about Myrune's motives. At last, she had been given the all-clear to get out of bed and get moving again, much to her relief: if her body needed the recuperation time, her mind had long grown fractious at the enforced rest.

And here she was on Cavallas's boat, sitting in the middle between Valen and Deekin, with Tomi behind her. The fact that she was embarking on another dangerous mission did nothing to dampen her lightness of heart: she felt glad to be travelling again in their little gang of four.

_Five, _reminded Enserric.

_Sorry_.

_I wouldn't worry, my dear...you play 'ignore the sword' far less often than some. Still, I have to say I'm feeling a certain anticipation about this trip_.

_I wouldn't have thought golems would be of interest to you, _she thought_. If we have to fight any of them, won't you be blunted?_

_I fear I will, and I would advise you to keep me sheathed if you can find something more suitable to wield. No, I am intrigued by the rumours of sentient golems. It brings all manner of possibilities to my mind._

_They're not as interesting as they sound, believe me. I've met a couple of them before, and they don't make for the most bright conversationalists._

She heard a faint sigh in her mind before Enserric spoke again. _Ah, but doesn't that depend on the raw materials they are created from? I'm sure that if I were a golem, I would be the very soul of wit...and it would be marvellous to speak aloud again, however tinny my voice might sound._

A deep voice interrupted her silent communion with the sword. "Drop it, halfling." Valen twisted around in his seat: as she turned she saw his hand outstretched towards Tomi.

With an unabashed grin on his face, Tomi dropped the stone into Valen's palm. "Just testing my skills. Not bad, eh?"

"Test them elsewhere, if you want to keep your hand."

As always, the rogue was completely unphased by Valen's manner. "You know what? If I were you, I wouldn't put that stone back in your pocket. See, if I can nick it, someone else can - or it'll go flying out when you're waving that flail around, and then where will we be?"

Valen scowled, but he kept the stone in his hand. "I have no intention of putting it inside my pack. I won't be able feel it if it heats up."

The Seer had given the stone to Valen. There would be no scouts on the Isle of the Maker, no relays out on the waters of the Dark River. The stone had a counterpart, hewn from the same block: if the threat of invasion was imminent, the Seer would heat the stone in Lith Myathar, and by some form of sympathetic magic its twin would also warm, giving them immediate warning to return.

"Yous could give it to Boss," said Deekin. "She has a good place for hiding things, don't you, Boss?"

"Er...yes," said Cora hesitantly, but Valen immediately handed her the stone.

She felt like an idiot for what she was about to do, but she also knew that her pockets would be no safer than Valen's. Slipping the stone into her neckline, she leaned back, breathing out, and felt the stone sliding down. She wriggled, and the stone settled into place beneath her breast-binding. The stone felt slightly uncomfortable nestled in her cleavage, but she supposed she would soon enough forget about its presence.

"Has that stone gone where I think it's gone?" said Tomi.

"I'm not telling," she said firmly.

"Blimey," said Tomi. "That could make pickpocketing fun."

0-0-0

Madame Elista bent down to pick up the note that had been thrust through her door earlier. She had been trying to have an afternoon nap, gathering her strength for another attempted ritual when she had heard someone knocking on her door repeatedly. Exhausted and irritated, she had ignored the sound: even now she did not feel particularly inclined to take note of the letter's contents.

_Dear Madame Elista,_

_You do not know me but I have heard about your talents from a friend, and I would like to consult with you about a matter of some concern to myself. I am available to visit you on weekdays, for a couple of hours around noon: if this is convenient, I would ask you to contact me via my housekeeper, who will arrange the appointment on my behalf._

She scanned the rest of the neat, copperplate handwriting, immediately picking up impressions of its owner. Not that she had any need to try hard. She hardly needed psychic skills to deduce that the writer was educated, and had an orderly mind. No doubt she would be the kind who felt embarrassed to be hobnobbing with a so-called fortune teller: the address was on the edge of the wealthier end of town, not far from the looming headquarters of the Order of the Watchful. No doubt it was a petty matter, only important to someone who had infinite leisure.

She would have thrown the letter away, but a sudden impulse stayed her hand. Perhaps it was the faint aura of maternal sadness and worry that the writer had left behind with her fingerprints. Elista looked again at the letter and saw the woman's name was Helene Webber. There was something familiar about the last name... She would find the time to see her after all, but there was no great hurry: she had more pressing matters to attend to first.


	25. Chapter 25 Fight or Flight

_Thanks again to those who reviewed the previous chapter, and apologies for the incredibly slow update. _

**Chapter 25 - Fight or Flight**

Cora noticed that Madame Elista's hair was thinning, as she leaned forward in her chair. In spite of the older woman's frail body, there was a dynamism about her which stemmed from a sense of inner conviction.

"It's difficult for me to talk to you like this without the help of my familiar, so I'll get straight to the point, lest we're interrupted. When you eventually confront the Valsharess, I think it's likely that the arch devil Mephistopheles will be stationed somewhere close by her. I want you to get as near to him as you possibly can. You have something he needs, and once you bring it to him, everything will fall into place."

"What do I have, and what exactly will fall into place?"

"I'll try to explain more, but in truth you don't need to know every minor detail as long as you do as I suggest. You can trust me, my dear."

Cora heard an almighty creaking sound, followed by the slow repetitive thud of metal footsteps on stone: she realised she was dreaming, and that was enough to pull her back to the relative discomfort of her bedroll in the side room where they were currently resting.

_Or trying to. _

She wanted to go back to sleep, to slip back into the dream so that she could quiz the soothsayer. She also knew that once she started thinking she had no hope of getting back to sleep in a timely fashion: she let out an involuntary groan of frustration.

"Nightmare?" whispered Valen, who was resting nearby.

She opened her eyes. "Not exactly, but it was a strange dream, because it felt very real," she answered, shifting a little closer to him so that she could talk quietly. "I seem to be having a run of them lately. This time I was talking to someone I met shortly before I went to Waterdeep. She's a soothsayer, of sorts."

"Does she claim to see visions of the future, like the Seer?"

"In a way. She isn't a priestess, as far as I could tell: I believe she's some kind of mage. She tells fortunes in return for coin, rather than helping a specific group."

"She told yours?"

"Oh yes. She said I would be going on a long journey." She could see the quirk of his eyebrows as she spoke: she should have known that he would be sceptical.

"Suitably vague."

"Don't knock it - she told me I would meet a drow with honourable intentions, long before I heard of the Seer. In this dream, she talked about the upcoming battle, and gave me a piece of advice. She said I must get as close to the Valsharess's captive arch devil as possible."

Valen frowned. "It's the opposite to the advice I would give. Did she say why?"

"That's the trouble - I woke up before she had the chance to explain. I don't know...perhaps Mephistopheles would help me fight against the Valsharess?"

"Even if you were certain of her meaning, how could you ever trust an arch devil?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I trust _her_. Everything that she told me so far has come true."

"Mephistopheles would never help us, unless it was for a price that none of us would be willing to pay."

"He would get the chance to pay the Valsharess back for trapping him. Isn't that enough of a motive?"

"Perhaps, but it's also worth considering that all devils detest our kind, and vice versa. Even being in close proximity will be enough to spark a fight."

She said nothing: she didn't want to bicker over it when they had been getting on so well lately. It was rather like dealing with some of the more upright Helmites she had known: there was no point in disagreeing with someone with such passionately-held beliefs.

As for her own views...she didn't honestly know what to think any more. All that she had ever heard about devils suggested that they were invariably evil, just like demons: her religion told her that both groups were worthy of contempt. Yet unlike Valen, she did not want to believe it was possible for her to hate instinctively, spurred on by the uncontrollable impulses of her blood.

"Is something wrong?"

She decided not to tell him: it was probably a baseless fear. "I was just lost in thought for a moment there. Thinking about religion, mostly."

"I sometimes forget that you're religious. You hardly ever speak of it."

"That's because my faith has been with me for as long as I can remember, and it feels as natural as breathing. It's the converts who tend to talk about their beliefs more. Besides, I know you're not a believer: I wouldn't want to bore you."

He propped his head up under one hand. "You don't bore me at all, but I'm probably not the best one to talk about religion to. I was thinking...we never seem to get the chance to talk much, on these journeys. I know about your past love, and the fact that you were fostered by a paladin, but little else other than that."

"Up until the time I went to Drogan's Academy, and even after that for some time, my life was pretty uneventful. Probably too much, as I always had a restless streak. I knew I wanted to explore more of Faerun, although I never thought of venturing beneath it. I was like that even from a young age. Fully of silly ideals."

"Silly? Why do you say that?" he asked.

"I read too many tales about perfect knights with shining swords, mounted on beautiful white steeds. I used to daydream about taking part in heroic quests in the company of other like-minded souls." _ And the most impeccable knight of all would fall in love with me. _"I suppose I have the sword at least. I've never been able to learn to ride, and I didn't think of all the other drawbacks to a life of adventure."

"The endless walking?" he prompted, grinning.

"Not just that. I haven't had a decent meal since I left the Yawning Portal. I knew exactly what I was eating, and that seems like a luxury now."

"I could point out the ingredients the next time we eat, if you like."

"On second thoughts, I'd rather not know," she said.

"Maybe you're better off that way. If you left the Underdark tomorrow, I doubt you would miss anything."

"I don't know... I would miss some of the people I've met here."

"Most of them have tried to kill you," he said.

"That's certainly true..."

There was a small pause in the conversation. Valen's free hand traced a loose pattern over the floor tiles while Cora wondered what he was thinking. _He must know that I meant him, surely?_

"I understand how it feels to be in a strange place and feel that everything is alien," he said finally. "My time on the surface wasn't easy: I understood nothing of the people and their ways. I misjudged one situation badly, and that was the time when I was forced to kill a paladin in self-defence. I stayed as far away as I could from settlements after that."

"It's a pity you didn't have a guide, rather like your role within this group. You needed someone who could take you aside and tell you when you're being an idiot."

The idling of his fingers stopped abruptly. "You think I do that to you?"

"Well, just occasionally - and half the time I'll admit I deserve it."

"I wouldn't say that: I know I have been less than patient at times. Being with you makes me curious about the surface all over again. I don't know how long I will need to stay in Lith My'athar to clean up after the battle, but if all was well... would you mind having me along?"

"You mean... you don't want to stay here? I'd_ love_ to take you to the surface," she said, delighted and flustered all at once.

"I'd like that very much," he said, "although I wonder if I would cause problems for you. You can pass for human, but I can't do the same."

"You know me - I'm not afraid of trouble, and I've grown sick of wearing gloves even in the height of summer. Besides, I'm not sure we need to disguise ourselves. If I put a stop to the Valsharess I'll be hailed as a hero in Waterdeep, along with everyone else I'm travelling with. No-one will care what race we are - they'll be too busy queueing up to buy us a drink!" She knew she was gabbling, but she couldn't stop herself.

"You're ever the optimist," he said, touching her lightly on the cheek, "but I'm beginning to find it strangely infectious."

"Sinth Thesti!"

Deekin shouted the words loudly enough to make Cora flinch, shaking her out of her happy haze. She turned around to see the little kobold sitting bolt upright. "What's wrong, Deeks? Did you dream about golems?"

"Deekin see hundreds of them getting up from ground in his dream, but it gave Deekin an idea," he said excitedly. "Remember we picks up a book with old language in it?"

"There's _always_ a book containing an ancient language in places like these. It's practically a requirement."

Deekin reached for the book, which was close at hand. Evidently he had been doing some bedtime reading before resting. "Look, Boss. Sinth gots a number next to it. So has Thesti."

"It's just a list of words, isn't it?"

"Then why be the numbers not in order?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's some kind of code?"

"Exactly, Boss! Big room nearby has funny machine we nots knows how to use - maybe there be a connection?"

She thought about it for a moment, then deciphered what Deekin meant. "The room containing iron golems and a couple of consoles? I remember the panels have numbers on them - do you think they can help us control the golems?"

"Maybes. Deekin nots makes any promises, but he thinks the chances be good."

"So do I. Sometimes I think you're secretly a genius."

After checking to see if the Seer's stone was still safely lodged into position, Cora got up and led the others outside. As usual they had to fight their way along the corridor, and once they reached the middle room they encountered more opposition. Finally, with the door firmly closed and the iron golems lying prone on the floor, the group approached the console. When Deekin tapped in the numbers, the creature who had revived the golems time and time again appeared before them. Before the golem controller had the chance to utter those hated magic words once more, he exploded: they barely avoided getting hit by shards of broken metal. Deekin fidgeted with the controls a little more: another number conjured up a massive guardian golem with similar results.

With the golems and their controller all silenced, the party were able to venture down to the lower level of the building, but not without pausing by the door. If the predominant sound on this floor had been the slow, ponderous clank of patrolling golems, the noises from beyond the door were loud and frenetic.

"Do you think they're running around in there?" said Cora.

"Either that or having a bloody good scrap," said Tomi.

"Surely not," she said. "If they were all created here, why would they fight one another?"

"They're far too busy fighting intruders like us," said Valen. "Some of the duergar that we met outside could be on one of their scavenging trips."

"You thinks they be playing football with one of the spare golem heads?" suggested Deekin.

"I don't know, but here goes..." Cora pushed open the door and saw a group of flesh golems and metallic golems, engaged in a furious battle.

"I _knew_ I should've made a bet of it," Tomi muttered behind her.

0-0-0

"Umm, Boss? Remember when we met a golem who said he was Halaster's son? You think this one be his scary older brother?"

Cora remembered meeting Berger, the guardian golem from Undermountain. He seemed like a rather battered stuffed toy compared to the towering hulk of livid flesh which now stood before her.

If he resembled a patchwork demon, Aghaaz's words were more reminiscent of a priest. "We are the children of Alsigard the Maker, who gave us the gift of life itself," he intoned. "Being the strongest, the Maker saw fit to anoint me his high priest, to deliver his word and his will to his other children."

Cora listened as he continued in similar vein. She had heard a different version of events from another self-appointed golem leader, Ferron. He said Aghaaz was a tyrant who was determined to keep all of the golems trapped within the dungeon centuries after their Maker had disappeared. She had felt some sympathy for his plight: she thought that such a long and purposeless internment would be hard for any intelligent being to tolerate. Now Aghaaz was speaking of such an existence as if it was an honour.

"When Alsigard gave you his instructions...how long ago was this?" Ferron had told her that Alsigard had disappeared some 500 years ago.

"Hundreds of years, but the amount of time is far less important than our constancy and our devotion. There are those who seek to undermine us...the duergar who steal the remains of our fallen brothers, and the heretic golem called Ferron, but we remain stalwart against them."

"I've met Ferron," she said. "He doesn't see himself as a heretic."

The change was immediate. Aghaaz's posture visibly stiffened. "You spoke with the heretic, the one who would defy the word of the Maker and betray his purpose by leaving this place? Do you believe his lies?"

"It doesn't matter what I think," she said carefully, "but we found a journal which was written by Alsigard himself, which might be of interest to you." She turned to Deekin, who handed her their latest find. With great care, she turned the dusty pages, trying to find the right quote.

"Alsigard wrote about his need to withdraw from the golems, not because he didn't care about you, but because he wanted you to..." She trailed off as she noticed a blossoming of warmth next to her heart.

_It can't be the Seer's signal. It's only my body heat affecting the stone. _"Alsigard wanted you to make your own decisions independently of him. That's why he chose to disappear, because he feared you would always act like servants whilst he was still around. It's all written down in here."

"Give me the journal," said Aghaaz, but as she handed it over his huge hands unceremoniously ripped it into pieces without even a cursory look.

"Didn't you want to see the proof?" she asked.

"This is a blasphemous forgery. Alsigard the Maker gave us his word and he would never contradict himself."

"Never?" asked Valen. "Do you believe that any man is so completely incapable of change?"

"Why would the Maker change, when he is perfect? His will is immutable and I shall crush those who oppose it." His molten gaze settled on Cora. "Tell me - do you side with the heretic, or with me?"

Cora hesitated, trying to weigh the situation up. Although she had defeated many golems on the upper floor, none of them had been so numerous in just one room, and their attack patterns were completely predictable. She wasn't sure that the same would apply to the sentient creatures here. "I should tell you that we are allied with the Seer's forces in Lith My'athar. We are preparing for war, and Ferron has offered to bring his golems to fight alongside us, if we help him."

"I will never give up the Power Source, if that is what he wants. However, I will match the offer of assistance in battle if you bring me Ferron's head."

"I'll think it over." She wanted to conduct herself differently than usual: she wouldn't rush in, putting her friends in danger. Instead she would talk it over with the others, and if they decided to fight Aghaaz she would return here here in a far better defensive position, with Ferron at her back.

"You must make your decision now. You are either our ally or our foe, and there can be no middle ground." Aghaaz's voice was calm but completely implacable. For one who spoke so eloquently about a life of service, he appeared well accustomed to being obeyed,.

It was then that she felt the flaring of heat from the stone pressed against her skin. _It's for real. I can't fool myself this time. _Panicked, she said the first thing that came into her head. 'I'll help you," she lied. She only wanted to get away.

Valen gave her a questioning look, although he said nothing: Cora she knew she must look like a turncoat. "I'll explain on the way out," she said before turning back to Aghaaz. "I need to hurry."

Aghaaz was saying something else in reply, but Cora was already backtracking, all the while feeling the pulsing warmth from the stone. She heard the ponderous thud of footsteps: Aghaaz and his followers were following her through the maze of passages, matching her own swift pace.

_I thought they'd stay behind. What do I do now? _She knew there was a risk she would be overheard, but she had to say something to the man striding along by her side.

"Valen - it's the stone. It's hot." _If it gets any hotter, it's going to burn me._

"The Seer's signal?" he said, alarmed. "We have to leave, _now_."

"I know - that's why I said what I did." Just ahead of her, Tomi pushed the door open. Ferron and his metallic golems were massed in the central room, waiting for them.

Before she could explain anything, Ferron spoke out. "Why is the tyrant following you?" You promised to assist us in our struggle for freedom. Surely you have not changed your mind?" Although his expression was unchangeable, Cora thought she heard disappointment in his voice. It reminded her of her foster-father.

Behind her, Aghaaz made a low, rumbling laugh. "She has seen the folly of your ways, heretic."

"No!" Cora cried. "Aghaaz, I'm sorry, but I wasn't honest with you." she told the flesh golem. "I don't want to fight Ferron. I wish I could explain but I have to-"

Aghaaz charged at her like an enraged bull.

_Run. _

She dashed rightward, but a few clay golems were moving to block her exit. Glancing back, she saw that Valen had engaged Aghaaz, swinging Devil's Bane tirelessly while other golems piled in to attack him from behind. She had to join the fight: she could not follow the Seer's call.


	26. Chapter 26 Waiting

**Chapter 26 - Waiting**

Try as he could, Valen could see nothing save for the Dark River's seemingly bottomless waters stretching out into the distance. It was only when a smaller, clawed hand slid over his own that he realised how tightly his fingers were curled around the rail.

"You know, it's not a good idea to stand so close to the edge," said Cora. "Someone once gave me that tip, and he definitely knew what he was talking about."

"I should learn to take my own advice." Valen sighed. "You're right, I've stood here too long." _With nothing to see. No chance of finding out what's going on in the city. _ The boat was filled to capacity: still more of Ferron's allies were left waiting on the island. Valen didn't know if Cavallas would get the opportunity to make a second trip. They might arrive to find a battleground... or worse still, the aftermath.

Progress towards their destination was painfully slow, in contrast to the sense of urgency. After the battle between the golems ended, they had to make hasty explanations to Ferron and impress upon him the need to leave immediately. As they left the dungeon, they were drawn into another unexpected fight with the band of duergar outside who could see their livelihood marching out of the door. Valen did not know how much time had passed with each setback, but he feared that so many delays could make all the difference.

"Let's go find somewhere more comfortable," said Cora, shaking him out of his thoughts: he followed her towards the middle of the boat, weaving his way past the massed golems.

The central seats were all occupied but Ferron stood up as they approached, and the golem to his right followed suit. "Please, sit down in our place. We can stand without discomfort." Valen knew that they did not suffer fatigue or muscular strain: if they suffered rust or a malfunction, they would not feel any pain. When Valen sat down, he noticed that Cora wasn't wearing her breastplate any more. She was clad in nothing more than a thin wool chemise. He guessed she must have taken the opportunity to divest herself of her burden shortly after they boarded. "Where's the signal stone?" he asked.

"Stowed away. I checked it just before I came to see you, and it's still warm. You're worrying about the Seer, aren't you? I can see it in your face," she said, looking up at him.

_Worried...frustrated...getting more impatient with each breath. _ He knew the pattern of his moods too well - such impatience could lead to anger, while anger could lead to a loss of control. "I hate not knowing what's going on. I knew I should have worked out a code with the Seer, while I had the chance. We know precious little about this situation, other than the fact that we're needed. We don't have any way to tell if the enemy forces are due to arrive in a few days, or if they have already breached the gates."

"We'd see something from a distance, surely? Flashes of light from mage spells?"

"Not necessarily. Drow forces rely on stealth, primarily."

"All the same, in a huge battle, when people all around are clashing swords - it must make a horrendous noise that carries for a long way." She paused. "I'm not helping, am I? I know one thing: there's _always something _different you could have done, but it's hard to tell what would have been for the best." She stared down at the ground before adding, "It's like the mess I made of everything on the Isle of the Maker."

"Why do you say that? We have the extra allies we needed." _ Assuming that we don't arrive too __late for them to be of use._

She spoke more quietly. "I feared that Ferron and his people wouldn't come with us, because of all the confusion after I lied to Aghaaz. It all happened because I couldn't make a decision straight away."

"It's not like you to be indecisive," he admitted.

"You know how I always go charging ahead, on some whim or other? This time I thought I'd do things differently for a change, and wait until I had the chance to talk the situation over with all of you. I was trying to weigh up all the risks. After I felt the signal, all my good intentions fell apart. I panicked and said the first thing that came into my head."

He was glad she was trying to be so considerate. He also suspected it didn't suit her at all. "Don't try to please me, or any of us next time."

"You don't want me to please you?" she said, looking faintly surprised. Her dark eyes, though tired, were still lustrous: her lips looked soft, and were slightly parted.

Unexpectedly, his imagination conjured up myriad ways she could give him pleasure: he had to make a conscious effort to bring his mind back to their conversation. "I want you to stay alive," he said softly. "Your way seems to work: your instincts are usually right, even when they seem unlikely at first glance."

"I'm glad you think so." She glanced up at him before quickly looking away, out into the distance. "You know, I think the Seer is fortunate in some ways."

"Why? There's nothing enviable about her life. The Valsharess is not the only one who has tried to kill her."

"I was thinking about her foresight, which goes beyond instinct. I know her visions can be fragmentary at times, but it has to be better than stumbling around in the dark, knowing nothing of the future. She has many enemies but she's able to inspire real devotion among her supporters...including a champion who is brave and noble."

Valen guessed that she was referring to him. Brave he could accept - but_ noble? _He was as nonplussed by the compliment as he was pleased. "If you meant me, you have the wrong man," he said. "My actions don't stem from lofty impulses most of the time. Usually I fight out of sheer desperation, coupled with the urge to kill anything and everything which comes over me every now and then."

"I feel like that too, when I'm having a bad day. Usually I put it down to... ah, never mind."

"What were you going to say? Go on - I'm curious."

He noticed that she looked slightly sheepish. "Women's problems. I always blame those for any violent urges, but they won't apply to you."

He burst out laughing. "Certainly not." Valen realised he was feeling much better for passing the time with her instead of brooding on his own. He watched her as she covered her mouth with her fingers before yawning.

"It's a pity I didn't get the chance to have another catnap before we boarded. I'd really like to get off this boat feeling fresh."

He guessed that she had the same concerns as him: they might need to leap into battle as soon as they disembarked. Not far away, Deekin and Tomi were curled up at opposite ends of a bedroll, feet to feet: with the boat so crowded, Cora would struggle to find a similar space to stretch out. He was feeling tired too, but he didn't know if he could sleep.

"If you need somewhere to lay your head, you can lean on me," he told her.

Immediately she shifted closer, resting her head upon his shoulder. Armoured as he was, it wasn't the most comfortable of headrests but she didn't seem to mind at all. He slipped an arm around her waist, supporting her.

"Valen?" she said, her voice faintly muffled. "Everything will turn out fine. I know it."

_You told me that you don't have foresight_, he thought. _ Even the Seer doesn't have enough of it, or we would not be on the wrong side of the river now. _He didn't know if Cora believed her own words or was simply trying to make him feel better. In a way it didn't matter: she offered some salve for his restless, troubled thoughts just by sitting so close to him.

0-0-0

Cora's all-too-brief nap ended when Valen's posture changed, straightening up abruptly. He murmured a few words to her which her sleep-blurred brain did not comprehend.

"Are we there?" she mumbled. She didn't want to stir.

"Land's been sighted. I need to go and take a look," he said, his voice sounding gentle but distracted.

Realising how heavily she had been leaning on him, Cora shifted back to occupy her own chair. While Valen stood up and walked away, she was still rubbing her eyes.

_Come on now, wake up! _Cora couldn't hear anything save for the hum of chatter on the boat. _No war can be this quiet, can it? _She had to see for herself: her stomach prickled with anxiety. Yet when she stood up, she could see the dim lights of the city, and she could make out its inhabitants strolling around as though normal life went on.

"Looks like we're not too late for the party, then," said Tomi, who had materialised by her left elbow. "Nice of 'em to wait for us and all."

She felt relief washing over her, but that feeling was tempered by the knowledge that this was a postponement of the inevitable: war would come to meet them whether it was later today, another day or ten. Cavallas was steering the boat round to the right, ready to dock. Though this craft was smaller and the location very different, Cora recalled her arrival in another place entirely.

_Waterdeep. All I could think of was the prospect of a new challenge, and how it had to be more exciting than sitting behind a desk all day. And now? I'm going to love returning to the city and seeing sunlight again, just as long as we can all get through this. _

As the gangplank lowered, Cora caught a glimpse of a woman striding towards the dock, flanked by two warriors: without her customary robes and garbed in leather armour, only her flowing hair made the Seer recognisable. Realising she was not fully armoured, Cora went to fetch her breastplate from where she had left it behind: people were already starting to disembark, and dispensing with dressing further, she hurried to catch up. When she reached the Seer, Valen was already talking to her.

"How long, exactly?"

"That all depends upon-" Noticing Cora, the Seer broke off. "I dared to use the Mirror, belatedly, although I took the precaution of focusing on one of the enemy commanders rather than the Valsharess herself. They're on the march, and gaining ground fast. They have already passed two locations where our outlying scouts are located."

"I assume the scouts are dead, if you heard nothing from them," said Valen grimly.

The Seer nodded, a hint of sadness on her features. "I checked up on them, afterwards.. They must have been overwhelmed before they could relay any warning to us."

"How long have we got?" said Cora, echoing Valen's earlier question.

"Time is tight. I would estimate we have no more than two surface days left, possibly less. I'm going to use the Mirror again soon, but that's all I can tell you at present."

0-0-0

Like birds in a nest, the group looked down on the scene below. Cora stood listening whilst Valen and Commander Imloth laid out their battle plans. Deekin was standing by her side, scribbling down notes, whilst Tomi had gone out with a small group of drow to lay traps outside the gates.

"I know we agreed that all archers would be stationed on the outer ramparts in case of losses, but I've been starting to wonder how well we shall cope when the enemy breaks through the outer gates," said Imloth. "It would be best to slow them down as much as possible."

"Surely that would be the job of the fighters stationed at the inner courtyard? We can swell their ranks now that we have golems allied to us, although I wouldn't wish to use all of them there." replied Valen.

"True...but if the enemy breaches the outer gates, our melee fighters should keep them so preoccupied that they won't have time to block any arrows coming from above."

Cora watched Valen's face as he considered Imloth's proposal: she could tell from the sudden furrowing of his brow that he had thought of a downside. "Can we really say our archers are so well-trained that they never miss a moving target? The risk of friendly fire is too great." He turned to Cora. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I think you've got a good point about the risk of stray arrows...but then again we need to thin out the enemy numbers as early as we can, before they get anywhere near the Seer."

They all fell quiet for a moment, and Cora struggled to think of something helpful to contribute that wouldn't be another reiteration of the obvious. She felt superfluous, in spite of the efforts made by both men to include her in the conversation. _They know this city inside out, they have fought the same forces before... and I can't pretend that I have the same level of experience. _From observing Valen, she could tell that all this talk of strategy was helping to keep him calm. It was having the opposite effect upon her.

"Umm, Boss?" Deekin's voice pierced the silence.

"What is it, Deeks?" Cora hoped Deekin wasn't about to come out with something that would make both of them look foolish. She felt like enough of a fraud as it was.

"When we be fighting the golems in the Isle of the Maker, Deekin not be much use against most of them."

"Can't you discuss this later?" said Valen with ill-concealed impatience.

Cora couldn't see the relevance either. "You were more helpful than you think," she told Deekin. "You worked out the formula so that we could destroy the golem controller, for a start. Anyway, we need to think about the current situation, so let's get back to it, shall we?"

"Wait, Boss... Deekin be trying to tell yous that he not be useful because his spells not work and his crossbow bolts mostly bounced off any metal golems."

Imloth regarded the kobold with curiosity. "Are you trying to say that we should replace all of the fighters inside the outer gates with golems, because they would be less vulnerable to our archers?"

Deekin nodded vigorously.

Cora simultaneously felt glad that Deekin had such a good idea and regretful that she hadn't thought of it herself. "Thanks, Deeks - you've saved the day yet again! In that case, we'll station the golems between the inner and outer gates, and the others can all stay within the city." Realising that Imloth and Valen were watching her, she added "If that's all right with you two."

"You're our leader," said Imloth. "You have the final say."

"You're the Boss," said Valen, and if he sounded sarcastic, he tempered it with a small smile. "Remember what I said to you back on the boat?"

_Don't try to please me. Trust your instincts._

"All right. Let's do it," she said, but even as she spoke she felt a knife-edge of anxiety twist in her gut.

0-0-0

Cora retreated to her room after the briefing in the hope of getting some more rest, but she knew it was impossible. Her mind kept going over everything that had been said earlier. She had walked the length and breadth of the city with Imloth and Valen, and now she was nearly wearing down the rug with her incessant pacing up and down.

_We can plan all we like, but everything can change in an instant. I knew that all too well, even when I only had Deekin to worry about. If I make a wrong move, how many of our allies are going to die?_

She started as a dark shape darted from under the bed, skidding across the room. The cat was preoccupied with batting a small object around the floor: one paw swipe sent it rolling towards Cora's feet. Bending down to look, Cora saw the relic she'd been carrying around in her bag for months - and much to her irritation, trying to dispose of without any success. She nudged it with her foot so that it went spinning towards the cat, but instead of pouncing on it, the animal did something most uncharacteristic for its kind. Picking the relic up in its mouth, it walked toward Cora and dropped it back at her feet.

"Are you sure you weren't a dog in another life? Either way, I'm sorry, puss. I don't want to play fetch."

She felt the faint yet familiar sense of repulsion as she picked the object up: she opened the door and threw the relic outside, sending the cat chasing after it once more. Cora hurriedly closed the door behind her.

She had barely sat down again when she heard a knock. Sighing, she stood up and went to answer the door: when she opened it, she saw Valen. He was dressed in scale mail of the same green shade he always used to wear before it was ruined in the lair of the bebelith. If his old armour suited him well, this set was far more impressive, with vicious spikes curving out from his shoulders. _Intimidating and beautiful, all at once._

"That's your new armour? You look absolutely amazing!"

His answering smile looked boyish and slightly bashful. "Could I come in?"

Cora realised she was blocking the doorway gawking at him: she quickly beckoned him inside. "Is there any more news?"

He shook his head. "Nothing much. The gates are being sealed and all we can do now is wait. No, I wanted to ask you about the armour. Rizolvir wouldn't tell me who commissioned it, save that it's a woman - and that's a pity because I have every intention of thanking her. Was it you... by any chance?"

He was standing there watching her, waiting for her answer: she had to say something. "All right, I'll own up. I asked Rizolvir to make it, after your old armour got torn up by the bebelith."

"This is more than I could have expected... it's incredibly generous."

"Not at all. You saved my life that day. You deserve it."

"Do I? It was my job to keep you safe, but I never once made you feel welcome." There was an undertone of emotion in his voice, and Cora knew that if Valen kept this up, he would apologise to her again.

"It doesn't matter now - we've put that behind us, haven't we? Besides, I haven't always been very cooperative either. Sometimes when you told me to turn left, I'd go right. On purpose."

"I knew it," he said, a hint of mischief in his smile. "What you don't know is that I played you at your own game, once I caught on."

"That's just devious."

"If I am devious, then you are contrary - we sound like a typical pair of tieflings, don't we? Seriously, though... I wish I knew how to repay you for this."

Cora was used to the intensity of Valen's gaze by now: his eyes were a barometer of his mood, whether he was deep in thought, curious or trying to keep his anger in check. This time, when his eyes lingered on her she could only see warmth in them.

"You don't have to repay me," she said. "Just stay safe - and apart from that..." Her voice trailed off as she looked back at him. _A kiss would do. _As if he read her thoughts, he took a step towards her: she felt a little frisson of excitement.

"Thank you." Taking her hand in his own, he lifted it up to kiss it.

_So tender, but so formal._ She masked her disappointment by smiling at him before moving away: looking around the room for a diversion, she spotted a piece of fruit that she'd found earlier while searching through her belongings. "Are you feeling hungry? I've got something for you to try - some fruit I brought from the surface."

"Is it still edible?"

"It looks the same as the day I bought it," she said before bringing out her last pomegranate. "It's got a tough skin, but you'll be surprised how sweet it is, underneath."

She broke open the fruit: he took the half she offered, then they sat down together in silence, munching on pomegranate seeds. Realising that Valen was staring at her, she gave him a questioning glance.

"You missed one," said Valen.

"Mmm?" she said, not understanding.

"Stay there." He reached forward to touch a stray seed which had stuck to her mouth: using his thumb, he rolled it carefully between her lips. Giving in to an impulse, Cora planted a kiss on the calloused skin.

His fingertips stroked over her cheek before he slowly leaned closer. Mirroring his gesture, Cora didn't know who kissed who first: all that mattered was that his mouth found hers. She could taste juice on his lips, and it seemed he was tasting her too: as his tongue slipped inside her mouth she heard a soft throaty moan, and realised that the sound came from her.

When the kiss ended he stayed close to her, winding a finger around one of her corkscrew curls. "I've been wanting to do that for a while," he admitted.

"Play with my hair? she asked, teasing him.

"That too," he said, grinning. "We're almost never on our own, are we?"

She looked into his eyes. "I know, but we are now."

0-0-0

Cora didn't hear the first knock on the door, nor the second: it was only when the door opened suddenly that she and Valen broke apart from their embrace.

The Seer was framed in the doorway. Valen stood up immediately, a fierce blush on his handsome face and his hair half-fallen from its leather tie.

_At least the Seer turned up while we were still fully clothed, _thought Cora_._

_Indeed... the timing could have been rather unfortunate,_ said Enserric's voice in her mind, making her feel even more mortified. She had forgotten about the sentient sword's presence.

Valen cleared his throat. "Seer. Do you have anything to report?"

"I could ask the same of you," said the priestess, smirking, although her smile quickly faded when she spoke again. "I'm truly sorry to invade your privacy like this, but the situation has changed. I looked into the Mirror once more, and the enemy have made swifter progress than I expected. We still have a little more time but it would be wise to move all of our units into position. Imloth has already made a start with rallying them."

"That's something... but shouldn't you be in the Temple?" said Valen.

"Our foes are not yet at the gates, good Valen, but rest assured that I will return quite soon."

"Good, but now I need to make sure the orders are carried out properly." As Valen walked to the door, the Seer stopped him.

"Best look smart for the troops: your hair doesn't quite match your splendid attire," she said, obviously amused. Valen's only response was an exasperated grimace, but he quickly retied his hair. Taking one last glance back at Cora, he left the room.

"I should go too," said Cora, but the Seer shook her head.

"Stay a while longer. I'd like to ask a favour of you first."

"Does it have anything to do with Valen?"

"Why would it?" said the Seer, appearing genuinely puzzled.

_Because of what the Valsharess said about you. I never fully believed it, but there was just one tiny kernel of doubt in my mind, a mean-spirited fear which should never have ever lodged there. _"Because you're his mentor, he's your finest warrior - and what you've just seen happening between us."

"It comes as no real surprise to me. I'm happy for you both."

"You are? That's good... you see, we've talked about what happens after this battle is over, and he wants to go back to the surface with me."

"I guessed he might. I'll admit I will feel sad to lose his support - who else could I ever rely on to speak his mind, unvarnished by flattery? I would be a poor friend if I made him stay, though. I don't believe he has truly found his home here, and it's heartening to see the way he has warmed to you. You must know that he doesn't give trust or affection easily. Treasure it."

"Thank you - I will." She felt grateful for the older woman's kind words. "What were you going to ask of me?"

"Everyone in this city is on edge: the waiting is difficult for us all. I think this is the perfect time for you to give a speech to our troops, inspiring them."

_"Me?"_

"Who else? There's only one Saviour."

"I didn't know that a speech was expected of me. I haven't prepared anything to say to them - not one word!"

"I'll give you a little time. I'll send someone to fetch you once everyone is assembled outside."

"But wait a moment-"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll think of something." The Seer gave Cora a brief smile of encouragement before sweeping out of the room: as she left, Deekin walked through the door.

"Why yous look like house be about to fall down on your head, Boss? Be it because of the war?"

"Just between you and me, I'm scared."

"Yous not be the only one. Tomi told Deekin that he be peeing his pants over it. Deekin thinks that be nothing new."

"Not only do I have to lead an army, but the Seer wants me to give some kind of inspirational speech beforehand. It's all very well for her to suggest it but she's a priestess: she has to give sermons as part of her job! Honestly, the last time I gave a speech was at my friend Hanna's wedding. I only arrived home a few weeks before the ceremony but she insisted on having me say something. In the end I used a few of your old jokes to liven things up."

"Ooo, you liked Deekin's jokes enough to reuse them!"

The little kobold looked so pleased that she didn't have the heart to explain that her attempt to make a witty speech had backfired horribly. She still remembered the human and halfling faces staring back at her silently, waiting for a punchline that had already been made.

"You always make me laugh, Deeks - but I don't know how to handle this. It's a very different situation."

Lousy speech or not, she hadn't felt such butterflies in her stomach at Hanna's wedding. It wasn't the thought of public speaking which truly worried her, although she still couldn't think what to say. She was troubled by the weight of expectation upon her. "Saviour this, Saviour that...I feel like an actress playing a part. Badly."

"Drow priestess lady thinks you be her Saviour. Yous think she is wrong?"

"I'm not sure. I wish I could be granted some visions from a Goddess: all I seem to get is the occasional weird dream. I can't help wondering, why me? I know I'm good at fighting, I'll grant you that - but there's always someone else who's better than me." _Valen, for a start - and I've taken his place. _

"Where those better fighters be now, Boss?"

She thought about it. "You mean the ones we had to fight in the past? We killed them."

"See? Every time we go out in the desert, Deekin thinks we be doomed. Deekin thinks the same when we come to the Underdark, but we still be alive, somehow. Sometimes Deekin even wonders if he should change title of Doom song."

"What to, though?" She tried to imagine Deekin singing 'Victory Victory Victoooory' instead of 'Doom Doom Doooooom' but it didn't seem right.

"Deekin still be trying to think of something that scans well."

There was a knock on the door: when Cora got up to answer it, she found an armoured drow female. "Danuxyrr, the Seer sent me to find you. Our people are ready to hear your speech."

"So soon? I thought I'd have more time - oh, never mind. I'm coming." There was no point in dallying. The Valsharess's army wasn't going to hold off on making the invasion in order to please her.

The girl led her through the crowd, towards to the ramparts above the city gates: the Seer was speaking. When she spotted Cora, the priestess switched from Drow to Common.

"I see that our Saviour approaches. In a moment I will step aside and allow her to speak so that she may inspire courage in our hearts."

Cora ascended the steps. "Don't expect too much. I still don't have a clue what to say," she said under her breath when she reached the Seer.

"I know you'll be fine. You thrive upon spontaneity."

Cora stepped forward. Looking down, she saw many unfamiliar faces, and a handful that were dear to her: Deekin, Tomi, and Valen were standing close to the front.

"It's good to see you all gathered here today," she began. _It's not as if they have any choice, with the gates barricaded. Now what? _She paused, thinking hard, but her mind had gone blank: she would have to speak the first words that came into her head.

"I've been having some unusual dreams lately," she said. "Some of them have felt quite significant. They were vivid, as if the people in my dreams were really talking to me. I even dreamed about the Valsharess on two occasions."

In the distance, she noticed a perplexed frown crossing Valen's features, as if he couldn't work out where this was leading. Tomi was more expressive still: he was shaking his head vigorously and making a throat-slitting gesture. She wasn't entirely sure about the direction of her speech either, but she had to continue.

"I didn't ask to be your Saviour," she said, and the words sounded blunt and stark to her ears. "I thought I was sorting out a short-term problem in Undermountain but it turned out to be far more complicated than I expected. Halaster sent me down here to the Underdark, and I didn't get any choice in the matter because he placed a geas upon me, forcing me to stay. The Valsharess knows all about the situation too, because on the second occasion when I dreamed of her, she offered to remove my geas."

She could see shock in the faces of those drow who comprehended Common: there was a sudden buzz of conversation. _ Great. Keep this up, and they'll be throwing rocks next._

With her next words, she spoke more loudly to compensate for the hubbub. "The Valsharess told me the Seer was lying to me about the geas and about... one or two other matters." _The less said about those, the better._ "It was obvious that the Valsharess would only help me for a price: she wanted me to switch sides. Well, guess what I said?" The response this time was silence, and Cora hurried on. "I refused her offer, and I can't say that I've regretted it for a single moment. She doesn't need to start a war: she could lead a comfortable enough life in her personal fiefdom, being fawned over by her supporters. It's different for all of you: none of you have any choice but to defend yourselves from her. Why, if Halaster himself turned up here and offered to lift my geas, I'd still stick around for this battle!"

The response was much more encouraging this time: Cora heard a few cheers. It was tempting to stop right there, but now that she had warmed up she could think of something else to add. She held up her hands in a silencing gesture. The noise ebbed away: silent, attentive faces looked up at her.

"The dream made me realise something. It doesn't even _matter_ whether I'm the Saviour: the important point is that the Valsharess herself believes it. She's tried to have me assassinated more than once, and when that didn't work, she tried to win me over instead. That's an awful lot of effort made for one surfacer, isn't it? We all know how important it is to have the right state of mind when you're fighting. So remember this - in spite of all her bluster, the Valsharess is _terrified _that she's going to lose. Let's show her that she's right about that one point, and wrong about everything else!"

The crowd erupted into cheering, and then, only then, Cora believed her own words.


	27. Chapter 27 Me and My Shadow

_Thanks so much to those who reviewed or faved this when it must have looked like an abandoned story. It wasn't dead, it was just sleeping soundly. Expect a much quicker update next time, in about a week as Chapter 28 is finished save for a little more editing. Honest. _

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**Chapter 27 - Me and my Shadow**

"I can't stand this. I should be out there, fighting."

"It'll come to us soon enough," remarked the woman standing next to Cora.

_Jasmine_. _Or is her name Janis? Either way, she's right. It's coming to us. I wish Deekin would hurry back and tell me what's going on. _She had sent the bard to check upon Valen, who was stationed out in the outer courtyard. _ And only the gods know where Tomi is._

It was Valen's suggestion to have Cora stationed inside the city - he thought she would be too much of a target for enemy arrows in the early stages. _As if he isn't! _ His armour was distinctive enough, but his height combined with his horns ensured that he would stand out in a crowd of drow even if clothed in pitch-black leathers. At least Cora was able to don a helmet, hiding her skin tone: although she was not as slightly built as a drow, the rush and confusion of battle might camouflage her from the enemy for a while. Cora realised that her companion's armour bore a marked resemblance to her own garb: there was a distinct risk of mistaken identity.

"Thanks, Jasmine."

"Janis." Her voice was slightly muffled. "What are you thanking me for?"

"For volunteering to fight with us." Cora had rescued the woman from the slave auction in Zorvak Mur, but there had been no real opportunity to speak with her before now. As Janis had picked up a reasonable grasp of the drow language during her time in captivity, she had been assigned to shadow Cora and interpret battlefield orders, should the need arise.

"I don't have much choice in the matter, do I? I wouldn't last long if I tried to escape the Underdark on my own. Besides, I owe my life to you. If you hadn't stepped in and bought me, I would have ended up in the fighting pits with my brains half sucked out."

"I'm glad I could help," said Cora. She was glad to have someone to talk to: the conversation served as a partial distraction from the sounds made by arrows or ballistae, and the distant cries of agony as they found their mark. "I'm not overfond of slavers, least of all mind flayers."

"Evil bastards, all of them," said Janis with feeling. "Even worse than drow, although the Seer's a good woman. You know, when I turned up here I was expecting the lash, but the first thing she gave me was a hot meal. I can't wait to get back home, though. I was only wed three months when I got caught, and my husband probably thinks I'm dead by now."

The words hung in the air: none of them could be sure they would survive. If Cora didn't find out what was going on soon she'd be tempted to bash down the inner gates herself.

"What about you?" added Janis, as if wanting to distract herself just as much as Cora. "Do you have a young man waiting for you up above?"

"No," said Cora. "Not on the surface," she added.

"There's someone here? You don't sound sure."

"It's early days yet," she said. _ But I hope I get the chance to kiss him again. Great Guard, Vigilant One, I know he's not one of your own - but keep Valen safe for me. _

"You'd best watch out," said Janis. "I'll bet some of these drow lads can be real heartbreakers once they slip out from under the heel of their womenfolk."

Before Cora could answer, she heard a harsh, urgent shout from the other side of the gate. "What was that?"

0-0-0

Crouched in an archer's turret, Valen watched the outer gates. _It's all going to plan, but then I'd expect that at this stage._ The outer gates remained unbroken, although they shuddered repeatedly from the pressure exerted from outside. A line of golems were braced against the solid doors, arms linked, reinforcing its strength as the archers above worked tirelessly. When the barriers failed, they would need to fall back to the inner gates, and when those were gone... it all depended on whether the incoming attackers were a trickle or a flood. That was why Valen had elected to stay out here: Ferron's army were sturdy fighters but he had doubts whether they would react swiftly enough to changes of plan.

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, Valen turned to see the head of the kobold emerging from the narrow trapdoor. "Has anything happened?"

Deekin's voice was usually loud enough to pierce armour, but this time Valen had to lean closer to hear his answer. "There be lots of grey dwarves outside gates, getting hit by our arrows."

Valen sighed. "I can see with my own eyes. I meant _inside _the city."

"Everything be fine last time Deekin was with Boss," the kobold said with a shrug.

"Shouldn't you be with Bo... I mean, Cora?"

"Deekin thinks the same, but Boss be getting all fidgety and wants to know what's going on."

He almost smiled then: he could imagine her impatience. "Tell her that she'll find out soon enough." He eyed the nearby archer – he didn't want their conversation to serve as a distraction – before looking back at Deekin. "You're no use to us here." Less roughly, he added "I want you to stay close by Cora's side, so that you can heal her if she needs it."

"Okays, but Deekin can do _something_ useful here..." With a swift incantation the kobold cast a spell upon the nearby archer. Valen felt the same tingling on his own skin. He was about to castigate the kobold for a wasted spell, but he noticed the archer's rate of fire immediately increase.

He was still watching the gates as his nostrils picked up the noisome odour of vinegar and sulphur. To him, it had long been the smell of warfare, typifying it more closely for him than blood or scorched flesh ever could. _Wait. Drow don't have that scent. It's..._

"Nota'manen!"

The shout came from behind him: as Valen whirled around to look, he saw a fiend looming above the massed golems, close to the inner gates. _They can handle it, _he told himself, firmly curbing the instinct to dive into battle_. _He saw a flash of red at the edge of his vision, then another. Not one, but several devils were arriving inside the courtyard.

_Summoned. Are they in the inner city too? _He did not think twice: he was diving for the trapdoor.

He emerged outside in the path of one of the fiends. "Into the flames we leap!" The battle cry was as instinctive as the swing of his arm. Tall as he was by drow standards, he was dwarfed by the fiend: too many times before such creatures had underestimated him. His first relatively weak aim at the fiend's muscular torso was a feint: Valen followed up with an underhand swing that ensured the spiked balls flicked up between the legs, laughing maliciously as he heard the bellow of pain which followed.

A stray arrow whizzed too close to his head and he ducked: the fiend caught hold of his horns, twisting, trying to push him off balance. Valen swore: he had forgotten that trick. Going with the pressure, he bent his knees to roll, and his foe momentarily lost balance with him: the next hit of Valen's flail was decisive, smashing hard across the fiend's temples. _Better._

The fiend was not the last one he killed. He told himself it was because they were near, because he knew their typical fighting style and he could do the job more swiftly than the golems. If he took a dark satisfaction in each Baatezu death, that was just a bonus. Tasting blood in his mouth, he spat on the latest corpse: looking up, he saw that the outer gates were breached, and duergar footsoldiers were starting to flood into the confined space, cutting a path to the inner gates.

Valen muttered an Abyssal curse under his breath before roaring out his orders: he should have paid more attention instead of indulging his bloodlust. He wasn't in the Blood Wars any more.

0-0-0

Valen had once told Cora that drow warfare resembled a moment when two great shadows finally met: 'a fleet of assassins and dark magic, seeking the throat of the opponent'. At the time, she assumed he was exaggerating, to make her feel out of her depth. Now that the long-awaited battle was here and the early rush of duergar had been reduced to a few bloodied stragglers, she could see the truth in his statement. The latest wave of invaders were drow and it was hard to tell allies from foes, especially from a distance.

_Don't, whatever you do, attack the wrong people. It was so much simpler when I was fighting undead, _thought Cora_._

_Quite. Why, it's almost a pity that Sodalis's army were indisposed, _said Enserric._. _

_Huh. I wouldn't go that far. _

They were coping, though. So far she had kept up with the same unit, chasing across the city with them. It helped that some of the Seer's army had been equipped with the distinctive helmets salvaged from Zorvak Mur, but already some people had discarded them, no doubt feeling that the limited field of vision negated their protective benefits. Cora nearly did the same at one point, but Valen was passing by at the time and noticed her attempt to lever the snug-fitting helm off.

"Keep it on. Or _I'll _be the first one to behead you," he growled.

He was gone before she could think of a retort, but she felt grateful that their paths had crossed, however briefly. At least she knew he was still alive...so far. They could not afford to keep too many officers clustered in the same area. Crossing over to an empty building, she walked up a small flight of steps to get a clearer view.

"Are we going somewhere else, Boss?" asked Deekin.

"Best send everyone to the Temple, I think. The fighting's concentrated around there." The Temple of Lolth was barricaded securely, but it was empty inside. The Seer and her guards were ensconced within House Maeviir, but the enemy were not to know.

"Want me to give all the scattered ones a shout?" asked Janis.

Cora nodded. "Let's round them up... but wait. Looks like someone's coming for orders."

Three men approached her, their faces shrouded by helms of shielding.

"Report in," said Cora. Somewhat unnecessarily, Janis translated the phrase.

Cora heard one of them say "Vel'bolen uss?" Everything happened quickly after that.

Cora was barely swift enough to block the blade which arched towards her neckline: she heard a pained cry on her right, but she could not afford to look away. She heard Deekin's song as she parried: finding an opening, she managed a good hit on one of the assailants. _Not enough. Not yet._

Others were running to join in the fight and at first, Cora did not know if her odds of survival were about to get much worse. She was lucky. A barbed whip wrapped around her leftmost opponent's neck, garrotting him, whilst the man in front of her was hit by a slowing spell. With a flick of her wrist, Cora knocked the rapier from his hand, and as the hand dived towards his thigh for a dagger, she cut deep into the obsidian skin. Two of her helpers grabbed his arms firmly, forcing him to his knees. The drow on the right was already lying there dead on the ground.

Cora looked sideways at her companion. Deekin was healing Janis, who was bleeding. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll live, don't worry," the other woman replied with a brittle, nervous laugh which suggested that she wasn't entirely certain of that fact.

Turning back to their prisoner, Cora saw that someone had pulled off his concealing helmet. She looked down at a face which might have once been handsome, patterned with scars, and she voiced the first thought that came to her. "I'm sure we've met before."

He smirked. "So am I. You should have paid me when you had the chance."

Cora didn't understand the comment, but his insolent expression sparked a hot anger within her.

Wasting no more time, she drove her blade in deep. "Treacherous bastard." As she looked up, she saw another face she recognised: this time the name came easily to her.

"You know him?" asked Nathyrra.

"Not exactly, but his face is familiar. I must have seen him around the city."

Nathyrra stared down at the dying man. "You're sure? I've never seen any of these males before."

"But they're wearing our equipment!"

"Could be looted from corpses. All the same, they should never have been allowed to get this close to you." Nathryrra turned to one of the nearby men: Cora could not hear what she said but he visibly quailed.

Janis spoke up. "I know his face from Zorvak Mur – I'm sure of it."

Cora remembered. "Argosus. He was a slave... we freed him from the mind flayers. Why would anyone ally with the Valsharess after going through that experience?"

"I guess not everyone's very good at being grateful," said Janis.

0-0-0

The enemy had changed direction away from the Temple with the swiftness of a turning tide, and Valen felt a growing unease. It was as if their foes knew the truth, knew that the Temple was an empty shell, and that House Maeviir was the haven for not only Matron Zesyrr but the Seer herself. Valen ran with the others, leading them in pursuit of the fleeing enemy.

Perhaps he was wrong.

_No._ He was right. They were almost upon House Maeviir, and Valen knew that there were just a scant handful of guards posted outside, so as not to draw attention to the place. They would be quickly overwhelmed. _If they're not cooperating. What if Zesyyr is as prone to switch sides as her mother? _

He had enough self-awareness to realise that his suspicious nature was heightened further in the heat of battle. Still, he didn't want to take any chances. After urging his fighters onward, Valen spotted a small, shadowy form slip past him. Reaching out, he caught Tomi by the arm before drawing him sideways.

"Have you seen what's going on by House Maeviir?"

"No more than you, most likely. They're having a bleedin' huge scrap outside the doors."

"You once found a way inside the House without anyone noticing. I need to get in there to check on the Seer."

"Sorry mate, no can do. I can get in there, but you won't fit where I'm thinking of."

"Then _you'll _have to go. Make sure the Seer's safe, and report back to me afterwards. Quickly."

0-0-0

_Quickly? What else does he expect from a rogue? _Tomi could have done without being bossed around by Valen, but it was hardly the time to argue or negotiate payment terms for the favour. A journey onto to the rooftops would keep him out of the thick of the fighting, so he couldn't complain too much.

He had to sneak past two groups of fighters on the way to his starting point, but his shadow form and his knowledge of the city helped to keep him concealed. He could tell the illusion was fading by the time he reached the wall, but everyone would be too busy fighting to notice a lone halfling wandering around above their line of sight.

Or so he hoped.

He eased himself up upon the first roof, looking ahead: there was a narrow gap between here and the next building. Before he made the jump, he took a quick look around and behind, as much from long years of habit as anything else. He saw a flicker in the gloom, a movement of shadows. He was being followed. Either that or someone else had decided that it would be a good time to take a bird's eye view of the action. He'd watch out for them, but keep moving. As he jumped the gap, Tomi felt a surge of heat under his boots, a burst of orange light in the dark: he landed clumsily. Scrabbling for a handhold, he found one just before he slipped off the roof.

_Sodding mages!_ He knew the spell couldn't have been aimed at him or he would have been too badly burned to walk: he was just unlucky enough to catch the edge of a spell which was cast in the streets below. Edging his way around the side of the building, he was about to go around the corner when he took another glance backwards.

_Yep. I'm being followed by at least three, possibly more. _What bothered him most was that they could have caught up with him easily after his slip-up, and they hadn't tried. Nor had they made any attempt to attack. They wanted him alive, for now. He couldn't be sure they were up to the same trick as him, but he certainly wasn't going to show them the way to the Seer.

_Time for plan B, Tomi lad. Whatever that is. _ He had to throw them off the scent. He did not dare look back again: keeping in motion, his eyes roamed over the rooftops, hoping to find an alternative route, a way to another house or else a safe way down. There wasn't one. The nearest rooftop would lead to House Maeviir itself. A narrow supporting strut extended between the two buildings. He had walked it before and knew he could manage it: maybe the others wouldn't find it half as easy as he'd make it look.

He took his first steps onto the strut. This time he had a lot more to concentrate on. Beneath him was the heart of the conflict: he could see the two sides struggling, hear the clashing of steel and cries of agony. More unnerving still was the crossfire of arrows across the crowd. O_ne shot aimed too high, and that'd be it for me._ He was walking too slowly, and his legs were starting to shake, but somehow he managed to keep steady.

As he made it to the other side he let out a deep breath. A glance backward showed him that the nearest pursuer had already stepped onto the strut, walking with the practised balance of an acrobat. _Now what? A trap? Nah, too slow. _ Reaching for a throwing knife, he felt a bulge in one of his side pockets. _Alchemist's fire! _He had just one bottle and he couldn't afford to miss. Taking aim, he threw. He was hoping to hit the strut, destroying it. Instead, the bottle flew past, falling down into the street below. As the explosion hit: he heard screaming. The impact made the nearest drow fall down from the strut, but her mates were following.

Summoning a shadow to hold them off, Tomi ran as best he could along the sloping roof: as a bolt whizzed past his shoulder, he skidded, sliding downwards on his rump. He closed his eyes as he fell... and landed, momentarily on the thin fabric roof of a nearby stall before taking it down with him. Quickly shucking off the tent of fabric from his head, he looked around. He'd have a few nasty bruises the next day - if there was a next day. He half-ran, half-limped along the slippery streets, looking for familiar faces. At last he spotted Valen: he wasn't close to House Maeviir any more but a couple of streets away.

Valen didn't waste any time when Tomi approached him. "Is the Seer safe?"

"Couldn't make it. Had a few obstacles in me way." Thinking it was time for a rapid change of subject, Tomi asked a question. "You cleared them off from House Maeviir, then?"

Valen shook his head. "There was an explosion near the front doors. I'd guess the enemy were trying to blow them up, but a group of them were killed by the blast. The rest of them scattered after that. We've been rounding them up."

Just as Tomi was about to admit his role in this triumph – however accidental – Valen spoke again. "At least I hope it was the enemy. Only a complete idiot would place explosives there when the building could have easily caught fire."

"Yeah, but it paid off, didn't it?"

Valen snorted. "With a little luck."

0-0-0

Catching her breath, Cora looked out across the city.

The wreckage of a city lay before her: what was once the marketplace was now a pile of smashed wood. Scattered like so much flotsam were bodies, too many, but one of the officers had already assured her that the majority of corpses belonged to the Valsharess's forces. _We've __won, haven't we... but where's the Valsharess? Did someone else kill her?_

"They're coming from the river!"

Cora recognised Lavoera's voice. Whirling around, she saw the outline of an unfamiliar boat and the looming shapes of umber hulks running into the city. She had only seen them here before in the company of the mind flayers of Zorvak Mur. Confirming her suspicions, she spotted the gliding forms of illithid following behind their thralls.

"Not again," she heard Janis groan. "Why _them_?"

Waving wildly at Lavoera, Cora called her over. "Alert the others!" As the deva flew away, Cora ordered her own people to the dock. With a sinking heart, she realised that many of her allies had already removed their helms of shielding. _Can't be helped. _She was one of the exceptions. From a distance, she began to cast the few spells she had left, and once they were exhausted, she ran closer.

_We're tired and they're fresh. _She could already see people who were dazed, swaying on their feet like mindless thralls. As one illithid began to feast on a victim, Cora drove Enserric into its back, feeling a grim satisfaction in the act. It was short-lived. A group of umber hulks charged towards her.

"This way, Boss!" Charging after Deekin with the hulks at her back, she reached a pocket of allies: breathing hard, she turned to attack them. _Mustn't be too careless now. They're everywhere. _The ground began to rumble and shudder beneath her feet and Cora barely kept her balance. All around, she heard cries of surprise and alarm. _Earthquake?_

The ground nearby churned up like a molehill. A huge, insectile head emerged before a Formian scuttled out. Cora had not seen any of the ant-like beings since Undermountain, when she had saved the Formian Queen from enslavement. In return, the Queen offered assistance 'when the time is right' but Cora had never seen any Formians since then.

In answer, she heard the Queen's cool, alien voice in her mind. _I never forget my debts – towards my friends or my foes. _

_Thank you. You couldn't have chosen a better moment to arrive_.

In reply, she heard a strangled cry before the Queen spoke telepathically again. Y_our people are attacking us! Stop this!_

_No, no... it's a mistake! _Quickly, Cora called to the people who were fighting nearby, but they were not the only ones to assume the Formians were enslaved by the Valsharess. To Cora's horror, she saw a unit of archers perched on a nearby roof, aiming indiscriminately at everything that did not resemble drow.

"What now? How are we going to tell those archers?" As she spoke to Deekin, and her gaze alighted on his wings suddenly. "Could you fly up there to pass on my order?"

As he fluttered into the air, Cora felt sick. _Don't get hit, Deeks – and please, Helm, make them take him seriously. _

0-0-0

"Come on, Hero of Lith My'athar," said Cora. "Let's go look for Valen and Tomi." This time, it seemed as if the fighting was truly over, but she could not see her other friends anywhere. She had seen Valen a while ago in the midst of the fight against the mind flayers, but after that... nothing. _He's sure to be checking on the Seer. I should try House Maeviir._

"You gots to stop calling me that, Boss. Deekin just passes on your message... ooo, is that the human lady over there?"

As Deekin spoke, Cora spotted Janis's body. _So that was why she wasn't with me any more. In all __the confusion I didn't see her falling behind... or getting hurt. _ She felt her throat muscles tightening, but she knew she would not cry. She hardly knew the woman, and she had never been able to weep properly since Master Drogan's death. It seemed such a waste, though. Janis had been looking forward to freedom, to seeing the surface again, to enjoying the company of a man she cared about. _Not so very different, were we? _

"Boss," said Deekin, "are yous going to use the rod thingy on dead human lady?"

"Rod thingy?" said Cora, vaguely distracted. "Oh! Yes, I could, couldn't I?" She had cleared out her pack earlier, retaining just a few necessities for the fight such as potions, but the Rod of Resurrection was stored among them.

Even as she started the process, a fearful thought crept into her mind. _What about Valen? What if he's hurt...or worse? _Her own ambivalence gave her a pang of guilt, but she could not deny that some lives were more valuable to her than others. She guessed that the Seer would feel the same way, that he would be the first she would revive on the a cleric could not use their life-giving magic for long without exhausting themselves to the point of needing rest, and once too much time had passed, the bodies could not be revived at all. Cora had no doubt that some of the people here would not get a second chance.

A glow settled over the still form, then Janis's body shuddered before she started to breathe. "Just rest here for a moment," Cora said. "You're back in the world of the living now." Looking down at the rod, she saw that the metal had darkened to charcoal-grey, all of its power spent: she let it fall out of her hand.

Behind her, she heard Deekin speak in the sing-song voice he always used when testing out phrases for his book. "And so the beautiful tiefling heroine raised one of her allies from the dead. Meanwhile, the blood-soaked Goatman stepped over piles of enemy bodies on his way back to her, shadowed closely by the halfling rogue whose feet always smelled of cheese."

"Deeks, you could be a _tiny_ bit more flattering in the way you describe them-" _He's safe! _ Quickly, she looked up.

Valen looked terrible - Deekin was right about the blood-soaked part. His hair was matted, wetted to a darker shade of red than normal. His face and armour were spattered with gore: Cora could only hope that not too much of it was his own. When he saw her, Valen's stern features broke into a broad smile, and her spirits lifted: bloody or not, he was the most welcome sight she could have wished for.

"I heard you were unharmed, but I'm glad to see it with my own eyes." he said as he neared her.

She took off her helmet, shaking out her hair. "Oh, I'm fine." _Feeling better now that I've seen you. _ "I still can't believe we managed to pull it off, but it's looking that way, isn't it?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you tell me that everything was going to turn out well?"

She laughed. "I'm amazed that you believed me."

"You'd be surprised. I may even start calling you our Saviour, yet."

Cora waved her hands in mock protest. "No, no, please don't - or I might have to kill you." More seriously, she added, "I don't really think I qualify for the title until I deal with the Valsharess. I didn't see her anywhere."

Valen's smile faded. "You won't. I was speaking to the Seer about it just now, and she's fairly sure the Valsharess is locked away with the archdevil and a handful of guards. We can take a little time to patch up our wounds, but after that we need to take a unit out to march on her fortress." His mouth twisted. "I hate having to tell you this. We've already asked so much of you."

"Oh, I'm more than ready to face her. After all, until I'm free of this geas I won't be able to show you around Waterdeep, will I?"

She felt the light touch of his fingertips before his hand curled around hers. "I'm looking forward to it."

"It seemed strange today, not having you fighting nearby," she admitted. "I missed you."

"I know. I felt the same way. Still, I'll stay close by your side for this last fight, my lady. I promise."

_My lady? _Cora dimly recalled him calling her by that title once in the past. At the time she had detected a note of sarcasm in his voice. Now he spoke the words like an endearment, as warming as the steady heat emanating from his skin.

"I have the feeling you're the kind of man who keeps his promises," she said, smiling at him before adding "my knight."

Valen looked surprised, but he chuckled: he did not let go of her hand yet. "Me? I doubt very much that I would make a good knight."

"So the young man isn't drow after all," said Janis, sounding amused.

"Why have I got this feeling we're all playing gooseberry?" said Tomi. Glancing away from Valen, Cora saw the halfling sidle up to Janis, who was sitting up by now. "Doing anything special later, love?"

It was then, half-turned towards Tomi, that she saw a bubble of light forming around her, and her guts began to churn as if she had motion sickness. Turning back, she saw the look of alarm on Valen's face, heard Deekin cry out in fright, and there was nothing she could do. _Halaster, you bastard. I'm not ready to leave! _

Then the light closed around her, and she could not see them at all.

* * *

_Nota'manen=devils_

_Vel'bolen uss?=Which one?_

I used the translator provided by House Maerdyn at the Grey Company.


	28. Chapter 28 Visions of Pain

**Chapter 28 – Visions of Pain**

Just for once, Cora would have liked to experience a teleportation where she arrived at the other side standing steady on both feet. This time she had even less chance than usual. She found herself falling heavily and painfully to the floor.

"On your knees as soon as you arrive. How fitting." Cora did not need to look up to recognise the voice of the Valsharess. Her heart sank. _There I was, cursing Halaster. _It got worse when Cora saw the other women surrounding her.

_Mages. _There were at least ten, all clothed in blood-red robes and spread out in a circle around her. Raised up on a small stage, the Valsharess looked down upon her. Behind the tyrant was a bound, chained devil: even imprisoned, he made an imposing figure, giant in stature and heavily muscled with skin the same shade as the mages' garb. Cora knew he could only be Mephistopheles.

"You were a fool not to accept my generous offer," said the Valsharess. "You could have worked for me and shared in my success, but I don't give any second chances. You're going to die."

Cora got up slowly, feigning stiffness. If she dashed between the nearest two women, taking them by surprise, she might stand a chance of reaching the Valsharess and dealing a jab to an artery. _The slimmest, barest chance - and I won't survive even if I manage it. Did the Seer's prophecy mean that I could succeed even against these odds? _Finding her voice, she faked a confidence that she did not feel. "Success? Your army is in tatters. As for you, if you're powerful enough to chain an archdevil, then surely you must be capable of fighting me one to one. Unless you think you can't actually win against me?"

"Do you _really_ expect me to believe that you would have fought me on your own, had you not been transported here by magic? You expected the other tiefling to help you. Such a shame he couldn't be here. I expect he's too busy having a private celebration of your so-called victory... with the Seer."

"Only in your fantasies. Say what you like, but it won't work. All you're doing is proving how much of a liar you are."

"This is not the surface. Don't give me any of your hypocrisy about fair play or honesty. Cunning and guile will always win out here. Still, I won't waste any more time on explaining the nature of this land to you. I tried, but after our last exchange I gathered that you're not bright enough to comprehend."

Cora didn't waste any time either. She sprinted towards the Valsharess, only to see a flash of blue light before her eyes: lightning jolted through her body and everything went black for a moment. She collapsed, her muscles twitching, and through her haze of pain she heard laughter.

"I have magic strong enough to destroy you without any real effort," said the Valsharess, "but then, I wouldn't have the chance to watch at my leisure."

_I've got to get out of this – but how? Think! _

Making an effort to look up, Cora saw the Valsharess turn towards the archdevil. "Her collision with the barrier was amusing, but somehow I need more. I want you to kill her, but you must take your time over it... and make it as painful as possible."

"I will not." The devil's refusal was calmly stated, his voice as dark and oily as tar.

"What's this? You dare to disobey _me_? Choose your next words carefully, slave, or you will suffer unimaginable torments for your insolence!"

"You are mistaken, Sinvyl," the devil said, apparently amused by the threats. "Surprising as it must seem, the tiefling carries a bond to my flesh. By ordering me to kill her, you have broken your own spell." As he spoke, the chains around his body fell away, sliding to the floor before coiling like a nest of snakes.

_Didn't the fortune-teller say that he'd help me? _Cora did not know if she could dare to hope yet.

Free though he was, Mephistopheles did not move: he simply stretched out his arms in a leisurely manner before folding them across his chest. The Valsharess swiftly turned back to face the summoning circle: Cora saw confusion and panic flicker over the drow's features momentarily before she composed herself. "Red Sisters, you may kill the bitch iblith instead - and afterwards, we will make my worthless slave regret his insolence."

Cora felt a wash of near-unbearable light and heat: she had no choice but to crouch, shielding her eyes. The smell of charred flesh and singed hair assailed her nostrils. Opening her eyes, she saw the smoking bodies arrayed around the circle. For a moment, she and the Valsharess stared at one another, briefly united by mutual surprise.

_The barrier's gone! _Cora darted forward, but if she reacted fast, so did her adversary:Sinvyl began casting a spell. Mustering all her strength, Cora swung Enserric towards her upraised arms but a jolt reverberated through her body as the blade made contact with a forcefield which was as hard as iron.

_Her shield is impermeable from outside: you'll blunt me if you try again. Run away!_

Heeding Enserric's words, Cora felt the shock of a second spell on her back as she retreated. _Now what?_

_Keep dodging. The spell won't last forever._

Doubtful but not knowing what else to do, Cora kept moving, using the furnishing in the room to part-shield her from the rain of spells which slipped through the barrier. Slippery ice formed on the flagstones: an erotic woodcarving of three entwined lovers began to smoke before bursting into flames. The assault seemed endless. More than once Cora was tempted to throw caution to the wind and attack, but each time she broke cover she was hit by a new spell that nearly crippled her.

Finally the pace slowed, and Cora picked her moment: as she slipped out from her hiding place she was pummelled by a slew of magic missiles, but the attack was too weak to do more than sting her.

"Not so powerful now, are you?" Although the Valsharess had fast reflexes, Cora was the stronger of the two, and this time, her sword made contact with exposed flesh rather than any barrier.

When the once-proud Matron breathed her last, Cora looked up. The archdevil had still not moved away from his station, and he was watching her.

Lifting up his great red hands, Mephistopheles began to clap slowly. "A most entertaining show, but now I have something to claim from you. If you look in your pack, I think you'll find a little something there which belongs to me."

"I don't think so. Everything in here is mine." Even as she spoke, she remembered the soothsayer's advice to her in a dream not so long ago. _You have something he needs, and once you bring it to him, everything will fall into place. _She also remembered Valen's advice about not trusting devils.

"That's where you are wrong." He held out his hand, as if beckoning to her.

Cora felt something shift in her pack, as if a rodent squirmed within: alarmed, she threw it down on the floor. The object that slipped out and levitated across the room was the small, jewelled relic she had tried to lose on numerous occasions.

"That thing? In that case, you're welcome to it," she said.

"It was crafted from my flesh," Mephistopheles said as the object flattened itself against his hand before melting into his skin.

_No wonder it gave me the creeps, _thought Cora_._

The jewels sat in place on his middle finger as if they were set in a ring. "Who would have thought that such a small piece of me could contain such power? It's ironic that a little halfbreed picked the relic up. Especially one of _your _kind." There was more than a hint of amused disdain in his voice.

The archdevil was regarding her with his amber eyes: under his scrutiny, Cora felt a churning sense of discomfort. _Like the feeling I always had when holding that ghastly relic, amplified many times over. _"Thank you for killing those mages," she said stiffly. Now that you're free and you have your piece of flesh back, it's time that you went home."

"Was that a grudging attempt to be magnanimous, or do you believe you can banish me? I have other plans for the future. So have you, although you don't know about them yet."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Trust me, it will," he said.

Cora felt the hilt of her sword heating up rapidly. _Enserric, what are you doing?_

_It's not my fault! The devil's doing this to me!_

The tip of the blade was heating to forge-red: Cora was forced to drop Enserric before his handle charred her palm.

"What's your game?" she asked Mephistopheles. "Madame Elista said you would help me. I don't appreciate the parlour tricks with my sword!"

"Ah, yes, the mage sent you to me. Tell me - why did you think she did that?"

She knew he was changing the subject deliberately, but she was curious about the soothsayer herself. "I'd guess it was because I was fated to come here. Madame Elista's advice helped to set me on the path which led me to the Underdark, as well as the letter I had from Waterdeep."

_Elista? Ellie? Hmm... I shouldn't indulge myself with such a foolish notion. So many years have passed, and she's almost certainly dead. _Enserric's musings did not make any sense to Cora, but her attention was diverted when the archdevil began speaking again.

"No doubt you thought Elista was a kindly old dame. Don't you realise what her real motive was? She used you as her pawn, just as I made use of her."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Her power to foresee the future and look into people's minds comes from me. I assume she didn't mention this? Of course not. Your naivety won't help you, where you're heading."

His patronising tone made her bristle. "I've managed fine so far, and you know nothing of my future plans." _ I'll find Valen and the others, we'll make our plans to travel back to the surface and after that... I don't have a clue, but I certainly won't be consulting any fortune-tellers to find out._

The devil began to laugh, and the sound chilled her: she did not wish to stick around long enough to ask him what the joke was. She glanced down at Enserric, but his entire surface area was glowing, almost at melting point. _I'll come back for you later, when I'm not alone._

"Goodbye," she said aloud before turning her back on Mephistopheles.

She tried to keep a brisk but dignified pace as she walked away: she refused to give into her urge to run. She had almost reached the door when she heard the sound, a whoosh as if something was in flight: at the same time she heard one word only, spoken by a voice that so often sounded pettish, amused or sarcastic but now was touched by anguish.

_Sorry!_

0-0-0

Madame Elista studied her contract. She knew each line by heart but she felt the need to gaze upon the most recent entry, made a few months ago, under the subsection entitled 'Conditions of Release.'

_Your soul's freedom will be granted if you reunite me with the Relic of the Reaper. _

_Freedom. Such a glorious word. _ Most of her youthful wishes had proved transient, or not worth having once they were attained. Both money and love had slipped through her fingertips as easily as sand. The only boon she had ever truly valued over the years was her considerable increase in psychic powers, once so faint and unreliable.

Since then, she had been able to find out many things which she could never have learned otherwise. When she divined who the current owner of the Relic of the Reaper was, it seemed an extraordinary stroke of luck that the girl was living in the same town. Such fortune had nothing to do with infernal powers: it seemed more mysterious, a quirk of fate. Still, Elista never left everything to chance. Now she had to find out whether all was working according to plan.

She froze when she heard the knock on the door: at first she ignored the sound, hoping that her visitor would go away. Soft though the tapping was, it was also remarkably persistent. Cursing under her breath, she put her contract back in its box, locking it away and hiding the key before going to answer the door.

The woman on Madame Elista's doorstep was unfamiliar to her. She had elegantly-coiffed greying blonde hair, soft green eyes and a hint of middle-aged spread, largely disguised by a beautifully cut dress. The stranger accepted her silent scrutiny for a moment, then extended a gloved hand. "You are Madame Elista, I take it? My name is Helene Webber. I have an appointment with you."

"Ah yes. Do come in," said Elista smoothly, although she was berating herself for having forgotten. At a time like this, she was mad to schedule any meetings. Unless... unless of course this woman was Cora's adoptive mother, as she suspected. If so, she could combine some much-needed scrying with her reading, without Helene being any the wiser about her own motives.

Madame Elista did not wish to make tea, or waste any time in small talk. Fortunately, Helene seemed just as eager to get started. "I should explain my concerns to you," she began. "I'm rather worried about my daughter. She has been away from home for a while after deciding to embark on a dangerous mission. While she is an adult who has been trained in the arts of combat, I fear she has taken on a task which is too perilous for any woman to handle alone. It's not the first time she has been away for a long period, but this time it feels worse. I feel a growing sense of unease with each day that passes."

"A woman should always trust her intuition," said Madame Elista sagely. "When you speak of your daughter, is she the fruit of your womb?"

"No - I adopted her," Helene said, looking uncomfortable. "I was never able to give birth to a healthy babe... the gods have their own plans for us, don't they? I think of her as my own, but she is not like me at all, for she has a far more restless spirit. She always sought out adventure and danger, even from a young age... sometimes I fear she is trying to prove something."

"Yet clearly she grew up in a safe and loving home. What could she possibly have to prove?" said the soothsayer.

Helene shrugged helplessly. "What indeed?" she said.

An image popped up in Elista's mind of the lady dressing a wriggling, recalcitrant toddler, pulling on mittens in the height of summertime. Helene loved her daughter for who she was, but was ashamed of _what_ she was, and it had ever been thus.

"When she returned home last year, I hoped she would settle down and get married, but she had some kind of irreconcilable spat with her betrothed which she refused to discuss with anyone. Ever since then, I knew deep down that she would feel the urge to travel again. This time, she went away to fight against drow raiders. As if Waterdeep can't raise an army of its own!"

For a moment, the polite facade slipped: there was genuine anger behind the cultured woman's words. "The Order should have done something... they should have sent some of the younger members to investigate. Sometimes I fear our leader is more concerned with the shine on the temple statues than he is with the outside world." Reflexively, Helene's hand flew to her chest, and Madame Elista guessed that she wore an amulet under her clothes. "But that's unfair of me... I speak out of turn."

Composing herself, Helene straightened her skirt. "I just want to know if she is alive and well. Perhaps I should describe her for you. Her name is Cora. She is in her twenties, with black curly hair, a complexion more swarthy than my own and..."

"I know who you speak of," said Elista. "I met Cora shortly before she left for Waterdeep, and since then I have caught glimpses of her in my visions. The last time I saw her, she was in the Underdark, but she does not travel alone. She is allied with a group of drow who choose not to live by their brutal traditions any more. She also has comrades-in-arms. I often saw her in the company of a kobold, a halfling and a strong male warrior who seems quite protective of her."

She saw the relief written on the woman's face, followed by curiosity. A kobold and a halfling, you say? She once told me that she befriended a kobold - and her best friend is a halfling." She smiled. "She was always inclined to strike up some unusual friendships, but she was more conventional in her taste in men. The warrior... is he a knight?"

The fortune-teller sensed other questions, as yet unspoken. _Is he respectable? Is he single? Have they formed an attachment? He's not drow, is he? _"I don't believe so. Are tieflings allowed to become knights?"

Helene's face was a picture of shock, and the fortune-teller felt an uncharacteristic pang of conscience. Still, she knew that Helene would have never brought up the subject if she hadn't broached it, and the evasiveness was beginning to annoy her.

"A... tiefling?"

"Yes, just like Cora," she said casually, "save that his physical traits are not easy to disguise. He has horns, a tail and a greyish cast to his skin."

Helene's delicate complexion paled further. "I see... but how did you know about Cora?"

"I sensed that she wasn't fully human when I met her. I make my living by observing the signs that others miss."

"I do hope this isn't public knowledge. We - my husband and I - told very few people. We wanted to give her the opportunity to lead a virtuous life, without being overly influenced by the fears or prejudices of others."

_Like your own? You wrapped her up in layers of swaddling, hiding the truth even from her. No wonder she was struck by wanderlust. _"You need not worry. My line of work means that I have to keep the secrets of others. However, I cannot guarantee that she won't bring her warrior friend home to meet her family." It was a further blow, and Madame Elista knew it, but she could not resist teasing the prim lady.

Helene laughed nervously. "I am glad to hear that she is alive and well, at least."

"She was fine the last time I saw her, but the Underdark is a highly dangerous place," cautioned Madame Elista. "If you can stay a while longer, I will look into my crystal to see how she fares." _Hopefully I'll find out what I need to know at the same time._ She was beginning to feel as apprehensive as her client: she hoped the feeling was not based upon precognition.

"If you could look, I will be grateful... and I shall reimburse you for any extra time, of course."

Madame Elista drew the curtains, and settled down after asking Helene to sit in silence for the duration. These were not ideal conditions to work in, but they would have to do: an elaborate ceremony would only unnerve her guest.

She tried to get in touch with her cat, but he was unreceptive at first. He was hiding in a small hollow, clearly terrified by the sights and sounds he had witnessed recently. She sent him thoughts of a warm place by a fireside to calm him down before trying to coax him outside. _Come on, Baphomet. I hear no sound of combat in the distance. Take a look outside... I can smell meat out there, can't you? _

With extreme caution, the cat crept from its hiding place. Madame Elista could see that the city looked as if it had been sacked, but although the cat's sensitive nostrils picked up the odour of dried blood, the dead were now cleared away.

It was then that she saw the Seer, in conversation with a man who had the upbright bearing of an officer. Like the Seer he looked relatively mature by elven standards. Urging the cat along the edge of a building, Madame Elista caught a side view of the Seer's face: the brief glimpse was enough to give an impression of sorrow coupled with anxiety.

_They must have won the war, or the Seer would not be alive, surely? _

The Seer was talking, her voice impassioned. Elista tried to recall some of the smattering of Undercommon she had learned many years ago, when her mind had been pin-sharp and keen to take in everything. The Seer feared for someone - a man. She was also afraid for... her people? _Everyone? _

"Ka dos filut sreen, t'yin aluin p'luin ukta orn'la ves'aph tlu streea." replied the man.

Before Elista could try to interpret his words, the Seer suddenly turned around. "Who's there?" she said sharply. The priestess's gaze alighted on Baphomet, and she darted forward: the rest of the vision was a blur while the cat ran away.

It would be a bad idea to spy on the Seer again: she was far too sensitive to the thoughts of others, and Elista had no great desire to reveal her identity after managing to keep it secret for so long. It was notable that the drow had switched to Common once she sensed that she was being spied upon, as if she had already guessed that the presence was not native to the Underdark. As for the spooked cat, Elista would have to continue her divination without him. She knew that such an act would tax her health and strength to its limits, but she needed to know the truth.

The mage tried to focus her attention on Cora, but she felt nothing more than a blank emptiness. Feeling an increasing sense of urgency, she visualised the horned warrior who was so often seen by Cora's side. At last, the scrying crystal showed a clear image of him striding through the dark, rocky terrain, flanked by Cora's usual companions with a group of drow rebels to the rear. Cora herself was nowhere in sight. Elista had seen the male tiefling through the cat's eyes more than once, but never had she tried to focus directly upon his thoughts or feelings. A mixture of complex emotions assailed her, some of them in opposition: desperate concern and the first stirrings of love, dogged by an underlying simmering anger.

She stayed with him as he strode at a tireless pace through a deserted town: finally he came to a halt, looking up at a great fortress. She heard a low groan escape from his lips: the image of two grotesque figures registered in her mind before she recognised them. A tall stake had been plunged into the ground, and two bodies were skewered on top of it, their blood pooled over the ground like slaughtered goats. The lower figure was the Valsharess: above her, crowning the spike was Cora, her throat slit, her eyes wide open but no longer seeing.

Back in her house, she heard a soft voice speaking, but the words did not register: she closed her eyes, blotting out the horrifying sight trapped within the crystal. Elista would have never called herself a good woman: she knew she was deeply self-centred, but some things were hard for her to stomach. How could she tell Helene what had become of her daughter? She must think of a lie, say something bland... anything. It would be unspeakably cruel to tell the truth.

She steeled herself to look again at the crystal, but that meant she was assailed by the full blast of Valen's shock, followed by the unleashing of his fury. With the demonic side of him in the ascendant, she did not want to witness what would happen to him next.

Suddenly, everything changed: she saw a cavernous room within the fortress where an unchained Mephistopheles contemplated his triumph. She knew he sensed her presence, disembodied as it was, for he missed nothing.

"Ah, one of my subjects is checking on me."

_Why did you do it? Why did you have to kill Cora? She didn't deserve this. She helped you! _

He only laughed. "Your concern about the tiefling is touching, if somewhat misplaced given your own role in her fate. The answer is that she is of more use to me elsewhere... as a convenient distraction. Her spirit is on its way to my home, albeit unwillingly. I suspect you'll join her soon. Your worn-out body can no longer cope with any shocks, and this one will be the death of you."

She felt it too, as if the archdevil had his foot on her chest, crushing the life out of her. _I'm not going to Cania when I die. Remember our contract, and the most recent amendment? _

"I said that I would free you if you brought the Relic of the Reaper to me. Did you bring it to me in person?"

_Weasel-words! I helped you. Without my prompting, Cora would never have gone to the Underdark, or anywhere near you. I'm free of my obligation, and you know it._

The archdevil's smile was a far a more chilling sight than his scowl, and he bowed to the waist, a gesture which seemed tinged with mockery. "Strange. Cora said something about a letter sent from Waterdeep. Was that your doing, too? Or could it be that not all of her decisions were made at your behest?"

Elista had no answer for him. He was playing with her as casually as her familiar would do with a trapped moth. She struggled to think straight in spite of the gripping pain, for she needed to press home her advantage. _You know that you're twisting your own rules, but if that isn't enough, you never found my father. Clause 19a. You had to find him before my death. _Surely he could not argue with her now, but she had never expected the prospect of her soul's freedom to feel so bitter, so hollow.

She could hear the relentless thudding of someone trying to beat down the fortress door, but the archdevil was unruffled, baring his teeth in a cruel smile. "Now that you mention it..."He picked up a bloodstained, discarded sword, lifting it to show her."Family reunions are always touching, don't you think?"

_What trickery is this? What does this sword have to do with my father?_

Mephistopheles laughed."Dear little Ellie. That's what Enserric called you before he went away, did he not? You might not recognise him, but his consciousness lives on in this world. You're intelligent for a human, you'll work it out for yourself soon - but now Toril, the Tenth Hell, awaits me."

_Toril isn't Hell,_ she answered, but comprehension slowly dawned. She slid to the floor, unable to watch the scene any longer, now completely in thrall to the gripping pain in her chest. Madame Elista saw Helene's face above her, concerned and fearful: the woman was making a heartfelt prayer to Helm. Madame Elista knew that the Watcher would never intervene: stern and cold as he was, he assisted guardians, those who protected the weak. Not people who betrayed others in order to save themselves, nor those who bargained with devils. Death awaited her, and although she had no deity to call upon, she prayed that she would sink into blessed nothingness, unable to remember what she had done.

* * *

_Chosen of Elistraee translation of Imloth's answer to the Seer:  
_

_Ka dos filut sreen, t'yin aluin p'luin ukta orn'la ves'aph tlu streea. = If you sense danger, then going after him would likely be suicide._


	29. Chapter 29 Choice and Coercion

**Chapter 29 – Choice and Coercion**

When Valen woke up, he was drenched in sweat as if from a nightmare. _If only it was._ Around him lay the dead, and he knew most of those silent faces, knew that they had been on his side. _Yet I'm still here. Why? _The insistent throb at his temples was hard to tolerate: Valen could only guess that the archdevil must have knocked him out and left him for dead. His memories were all blurred together: Cora, the onrush of white-hot anger, the mages with their horrifically burned bodies and their ensnaring spells. Last of all, he remembered Mephistopheles' sneering face.

_I won't die so easily, devil. Too many of your kind have made that mistake before. _ He was lying on the steps of the fortress, just outside the doors. Rousing himself, Valen tried to push the door open, but it did not yield: he felt shamefully weak, and he sank to his knees again as a wave of dizziness passed over him. Under his armour, his clothes felt damp. _It's not sweat, it's blood, _he thought as he felt a trickle run along the length of his arm. _No wonder the rage has passed – it's all bleeding out of me. _Nothing was left but bitter despair.

Nearby lay the small bodies of the kobold and the halfling: a vague memory came back that Deekin had held out for a surprisingly long time. A little further away was the spike which still held Cora's body. He closed his eyes shut, banishing the sight. He had seen similar and worse many times over, but he did not wish to remember her that way. Better to think of her laughing, or the look on her face before he kissed her.

_But that's what happens, doesn't it? You start getting close to a woman, and then..._

_Enough! _He roused himself: there was something he could do for her, however small. Pain wrenched through him as he tried to stand. Nearby was a mage's staff: gritting his teeth though the agony, he used it as a makeshift walking stick and slowly made his way forward. At one point he nearly tripped; as he righted himself he noticed a sword lying on the ground. The blade was blackened as if it had been passed through a forge, but he recognised it as Enserric. He learned to pick the sword up with his free hand, and the dizziness washed over him again: it would have been easy to slip to the ground, but with a supreme act of will, he straightened up. _Don't give up. Just a few more steps. _

Finally, he made it: using the last of his strength, he put his weight on the spike, bending it forwards: he almost impaled himself pulling Cora's body away. Somehow he managed the feat without dropping her. He wanted to close her eyes and place the sword in her hand, but by now he was too weak to make another movement. He lay still by her side as the darkness began to close in upon him. _You didn't fulfil the prophecy, but I know you would have tried. To the very end. _

0-0-0

Valen had not expected to wake again, but he did, in the same desolate, cursed place. At the edge of his vision he saw movement: looking around, he saw one of the drow beginning to stir. _Another survivor? _ Valen spoke her name, but the scout did not hear him. As if sleepwalking, she knelt to pick up her weapon and slowly walked towards the fortress. The doors opened for her and closed once more.

He turned back to Cora, but she was fading from his sight. He reached out to touch her, but just as before, when the spell had taken her, he could feel nothing at all. _Can't stop this... it's as if I'm back in that cage in the Abyss, unable to make a difference. _He wanted to lose himself again, give in to the rage so he did not have to think, to remember, to feel.

"Compared with the alternative, it is a lesser evil if her body leaves this place."

Soft and mellifluous though it was, the voice had a resonance that could not be ignored. He turned to see a shaft of light forming, like a moonbeam piercing the gloom: within it, an image of a woman began to form.

_Not just any woman. _Naked, with silver-white hair that flowed down to the floor and carrying a bastard sword, she resembled many of the paintings he had seen around Lith My'athar. Yet none fully captured the reality.

It was not his way to bend the knee, even before such a presence. "Eilistraee. You must have the power to bring Cora back," he said. "Use it."

"Her body is going elsewhere, and I cannot stop it from happening. Nor can I prevent the misuse of these bodies, even if I can safeguard the souls of those who worshipped me. Look around you, and take it as a warning."

Another soldier shifted, crawling on all fours before staggering to his feet, and Valen called out to him. "Listen to me!" As before, the soldier betrayed no sign that he had heard Valen.

"They are nothing but thralls, now, and they only hear the voice of their master. You know you are dead, don't you? It is the only reason why you can see me. If you stay here you risk suffering the same fate as the others. Body and soul."

"Then why are you here, goddess? To taunt me? From what you are saying, I can't expect help."

"Your doubts do not offend me, tiefling, for I have heard far worse from my own people. Yet there is one boon I could give to you. I could grant your soul passage to Arvandor."

He hadn't known what kind of answer to expect from her, but she still took him by surprise. "Why would you do that for an unbeliever?"

"Oh, you believe in my existence, or you would not be speaking to me now. It is just that you do not _trust_." Eilistraee's eyes bored into his. "As for my reason, it is simple. You gave your life in the service of one of my priestesses. If you were one of the faithful, your spirit would already be at peace." She paused. "You present me with a dilemma, and not just because of the shadows that lurk inside you. You cannot pass to my realm unless you pledge your faith in me, and speak it as truth. With all your heart."

"Heart? I don't have one." It was not the first time in his life he had such a thought, but when he had found Cora's body earlier, he had felt as if it was being ripped out of his chest.

"You are wrong, and soon you will understand. I am not the only one who is offering you a choice. You will have the chance to live again... but it will not be easy. You may attain your heart's desire or you may fall victim to your worst instincts. Even if the latter does not happen, you may curse your decision, because every step of your path will lead to greater peril. Not just for yourself but for those around you." She paused, looking out into the distance. "I believe the risks are worth taking, but I know you will not do it for my sake. The question is, will you do it for her?"

0-0-0

Cora was floating in the air, and she felt no pain: in fact she felt nothing at all. She was suspended above a room edged by many doorways, and she could make out two figures in the room. One was a strange creature with bat-like wings: he wore a hooded robe, so she could not see his face from her vantage point. The other figure was lying recumbent on the floor, apparently fast asleep, and looked so much like her that they could have been twins.

The winged creature looked up at her: his translucent skin was stretched so tightly across his face that he looked almost skeletal.

"It _is _you, Cora," he said. "Your body is waiting for you to inhabit it once more."

"Waiting? But... I'm here." _ Up here in the air, like a bird, and I don't know how to come back down._

"You died. Mephistopheles killed you, and I, the Reaper, brought you to this place."

She knew she should have felt some kind of emotion on hearing the news. Sorrow, anger – but there was only a vague, confused numbness. She remembered walking away from the devil, and hearing Enserric's voice. After that, she could recall nothing at all. She wondered if she had died almost instantly, but her mind wasn't offering up any answers.

Another thought struck her, and this time she felt a twinge of anxiety, but even then it was oddly muted. "I had allies – friends – we were all planning to march on the fortress together. They're safe, aren't they?"

The Reaper answered her. "They went in search of you, and they all met their end in the same place."

_Dead? All of them? _She knew her living self would have felt the sharp sting of grief, but all she could muster was a grey emptiness, as if a long, dark winter was gradually stealing over her soul. _I thought the war was over. I thought killing the Valsharess was enough. How badly wrong could I be?_

"You should know by now that death is just a transition. Soon I will bring you back to life, but you need not continue your journey alone. I could revive those among your companions who were closest to you, if they give their consent. Unlike you, they may choose whether or not they return here."

Her mind was still as foggy as if she had been sleeping too long. She didn't understand why she was the only one who had no choice, but it did not matter... the only important point was that she wanted to live again, and she wished the same for her friends. "We can come back to life? All of us? If we have a second chance then please, bring everyone back."

"You need to be the one who asks for them, otherwise it may not work. Not all spirits will trust the word of a stranger."

She knew that Valen would not be easily convinced. If she had been in corporeal form, she would have smiled at the thought. _Suspicious to the core. _"How can I do this?"

"All you need to do is simply think of them, one by one, and I will make sure that they can sense the call of your spirit. It is easiest for you to do this in your current condition, and that is why I have not reunited you with your body yet. Above all, be honest. Speak from the heart, because they will not remember what you said upon waking, but if they detect a lie, they are more likely to refuse."

She was ready to begin, but the Reaper had more to say. "If they accept, the amount of time it takes for them to return will vary. If they have already entered some form of afterlife it may take longer. Now it is time for you to start calling them."

It seemed easier to ask for Tomi first: she knew she would feel sad if he chose not to come back, but it would not be a crushing blow. _Tomi... it's me, Cora. I don't know what you're doing now, but if you're getting bored with the afterlife you don't have to stay there. It was always fun having you around, and I'd like your help again, if you're game. Who knows, maybe we'll get our hands on that reward from Waterdeep, this time around._

She did not know whether she was meant to hear the response, but after a short pause, she thought she heard Tomi's rather dirty-sounding laugh somewhere in the distance. She looked at the Reaper, questioningly.

"Continue."

_Dear Deeks, you never got the chance to _f_inish your book, and you must have thought you were getting close to the end of it by now. I've no idea what I will be doing next, but I know someone who can bring me back to life, and it wouldn't be the same without your company. Boss is looking forward to continuing her adventures with you, if you're not tired of singing the Doom Song._

This time, she immediately felt a sense of bubbling, childlike excitement in response: she did not think she imagined it, for she could not have expected anything less from the kobold bard.

Next, it was Valen's turn, and at first she struggled to formulate her thoughts. _Valen... it's Cora. I know we didn't always get along so well at the start, but we're past that, and I'm so glad I had the chance to see another side of you. _She paused. _You had such a hard life, and I can understand if you're sick of it all. Maybe it's selfish of me to even ask this... but I'd do anything to see you again. Come back, Valen, and walk by my side. Please. _

She waited, suddenly terrified she would feel nothing at all save for her own hopes fading away. It was then that she sensed a prickly uncertainty, followed by something raw and ardent, as if her new-found yearning was matched by his. _ I hope I'm not mistaken. _

"It is time for you to return." said the Reaper. Looking down, she realised she had been slowly sinking, and was now much closer to her body: she noticed one important detail that she had overlooked earlier. "There's a... _tail?_ Why can I see a tail extending behind me?"

"This is a more profound resurrection than a priest could perform. Your body has been here for a while and was healed of all injuries, whether new or old."

"Old? But I never had a_-". _The ground was rushing towards her. Slamming back into her body, she gasped as if badly winded: she was looking through her own eyes one more, squinting because the light seemed brighter than she was used to. The tiles were cold and hard beneath her palms and she ached as if she had been sleeping in an uncomfortable position for hours. _I'm alive, though! That's all that matters._

Experimentally, she stretched out her arms and legs, and she felt the tail – _her_ tail – flexing along with her limbs. She reached around to touch the appendage, which was warm, faintly ticklish, and twitched under her touch. The sensation felt alien to her, and rather unsettling. With her hand still on her tail, she felt rough-edged leather around its base. _Who cut a hole in the back of my trousers? It certainly wasn't me. L_ooking up at the Reaper, she decided she was better off not knowing the precise details, but if her pants split in future she'd know who to blame. Right now there were more important matters to worry about.

Sitting up, she addressed the Reaper. "How long does it take for the others to return?"

"It varies. If they accept your request, it depends where they are coming from."

"Don't you know whether they have accepted yet?"

"I will only be certain when their spirits draw near. I did not listen to your conversation with them: I simply made it possible."

"I see. Well, I didn't exactly hear them answer me, but I'm fairly sure I felt some kind of response each time." _What if I'm kidding myself, and it was all in my imagination? _Feeling apprehensive, she tried to take her mind off the waiting. She got to her feet, finding that the weight of her tail made her feel slightly off-balance. "I asked for three people – Valen Shadowbreath, Deekin Scalesinger and Tomi Undergallows. I thought of them when you talked of my closest companions, but are there any others who might need resurrecting?

His gaze was level. "They were not the only ones to die, but the others did not have a close enough bond to you, whether through fellowship or the ties of fate." He paused, looking out into the distance. "Wait. There is someone else..."

"Who?"

He shook his head. "The sensation was fleeting. It may be that they do not realise they are dead, or that they cannot accept their fate, making it difficult to commune with their spirit. Perhaps I will learn more later."

"I hope so. I'd hate to think that anyone was stuck." Cora looked around at room, and the doorways which ringed it, some closely spaced. One doorway at the far end had a distinct shimmering glow around its edges, rather like the door-portals within Undermountain.

"Where is this place? I should have asked you before, but I've no idea where I am."

"This room is called the Realm of the Reaper, and it is – or it _was_ – a meeting place for the planes. As he corrected himself, Cora heard a flicker of emotion in the normally toneless voice. "Once, each doorway could connect to an almost infinite variety of locations. Now only one door is usable." His bony hand gestured at the glowing doorway.

"Why is that? Are the other ones broken?" she asked, as much to pass the time as out of genuine interest. She had never studied magic for long enough to understand how portals worked.

When the Reaper answered her, she heard real bitterness this time. "Mephistopheles forced me to close them. Somehow he managed to find out my True Name and bound me to do his bidding. Now I cannot bring the doors back to life unless he changes his mind, but that seems unlikely. He also ordered me to bring you back to life here."

Cora felt a sinking feeling, not dissimilar to the one she had when she first arrived in the Underdark. She did not fully understand how a name could hold such power over anyone, but she knew that anything involving the archdevil couldn't be good. "Wait a moment – he told you to revive me? Why would he give you such an order when he killed me in the first place?"

"He does not tell me his plans. I wonder if he needed someone to exchange places with, although you would be a surprising choice."

Before she could ask the Reaper to explain further, Cora was distracted by a pinpoint of light forming on the ground in front of her. The light began to spread out like water flowing from an underground source: swirling strands of red and black flowed within its radiant core.

"One of your companions is returning." said the Reaper. "I must concentrate. Stand away, and don't stare into the light: it will only grow in intensity."

Still acclimatised to the gloom of the Underdark, Cora found she had to turn away: even then she needed to close her eyes tightly shut. She waited in silence, and eventually the light faded. Opening her eyes, she took a peek.

_You came back to me. _She had never seen Valen before in good light conditions, had never fully appreciated quite how brilliant a shade of scarlet his hair was. His eyelids flickered but did not open: he looked as if he was dreaming, on the verge of waking up. If the Reaper did nothing else for her, she would be grateful for this act alone. She took a step forward, hesitant: the Reaper nodded at her, before turning away.

Walking closer, Cora nearly lost her balance as she stopped. _Wouldn't do to fall on top of him. _Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground to sit beside him, and she waited for him to awaken. After a short while she saw Valen's long fingers flexing slightly before his eyes opened. He blinked once or twice, and then he saw her. _Your eyes are brighter than I remember. _ For a moment, she only gazed back at him.

"Cora... is that really you?"

Her throat tightened: she managed a crooked smile. "In the flesh... this feels strange, doesn't it?" she said, her voice sounding unsteady. Instinctively, she shifted forwards, and he reached out to her. Needing no further excuse to be close to him, she laid her head on his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around her. _I could have lost you, and I couldn't even admit to myself how difficult that would be. _

He spoke into her hair. "I saw you... I found your body. Outside the fortress." She felt him shiver. "I tried to avenge your death."

She straightened up so that she could look back at him. "I knew you would... but all's well now. The Reaper healed me and brought me back to life, just as he did for you."

Valen glanced over at the Reaper, his expression curious, before returning his attention to Cora. He studied her, just as he had done sometimes in the Underdark, when he couldn't quite understand what she was about. He touched her face: slowly, almost absently, his fingertips trailed down to her neck before resting there. In spite of the caress, his expression seemed troubled. "I wasn't there when you needed me, was I? I promised you that I'd fight by your side."

"By the Gods, Valen, I'm not going to hold that against you! None of us were expecting me to disappear like that. I did what I set out to do, even if it all went wrong later. I can't say I put up a noble fight, but I managed to kill the Valsharess."

It was then that she saw him smile. "You fulfilled the prophecy after all? I am very glad to hear of it."

"I should imagine the Seer will be pleased too."

Valen sat up abruptly, bringing her with him. "The Seer! If the archdevil killed both of us, then what happened afterwards? What became of her?"

"I don't know," she ventured. "Did she leave Lith My'athar?"

"Not that I know of. She stayed behind with the injured when we went looking for you."

"I wouldn't worry then. There's no reason to assume Mephistopheles was bound for Lith My'athar." _I just wish I knew what his plans were._

She saw the way he expelled his breath, as if he had been holding it: she saw a faint cloud of vapour exuding from his mouth. The air was chill - but then what could she expect from this strange place where the dead came back to life?

"I hope that you're right... but it worries me. Our group thought we were well prepared, but he still managed to defeat us." His frown deepened. "I should have asked more questions while I had the opportunity."

"Perhaps the Reaper will know what happened to the Seer. He was able to tell me about your fate."

Cora stood by as Valen fired questions at the Reaper. More than once, the Reaper insisted that he was only able to speak of the few who were both closely linked to Cora and had died recently.

"In that case the Seer must be alive. She dreamed of Cora before any of us knew her, naming her as our Saviour – surely this means their fates were entwined?"

"l cannot say."

"Cannot, or _will_ not?" Valen snapped.

"I can only tell you what I know."

"Valen..." Cora intervened. "I don't think he's lying."

She heard Valen sigh. It was only right and fair that he would have concerns about the Seer: she wondered about the priestess's fate too. Nonetheless, she felt a little sting of jealousy and with it, a twin stab of guilt. _How long have I known him, compared with the Seer? I can't expect to be the centre of his life._

The Reaper's cool voice broke the silence. "Your other companions are drawing closer, and it would be wise to clear a large space. You could collect your belongings from the divining pool on the opposite side of the room, if you wish. It contains everything which was close to you before you returned."

Cora went to investigate, followed by Valen: as she stopped by the pool she sensed that Valen was watching her, and she glanced back at him. He was staring, apparently fascinated by a point just behind her, and as she twisted around to look, she realised why. Her tail gave a violent twitch of its own volition. "That was an unexpected side-effect of my coming back to life. To be honest, I hate it. I feel like someone's played a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey with me."

"_Donkey?_" Valen's posture stiffened. "I never knew you were so averse to tails."

"I didn't mean – look, it's different for you! You've had one all your life. I can't imagine you without it, and it suits you perfectly."

"I could say the same of your tail," he said, his eyes softening. "It becomes you."

"Well, I'm glad someone likes it... and I'm sure I'll get used to it soon enough," she said, feeling self-conscious and flattered all at once. Turning to the pool, she braced herself to plunge her hands into the icy water. _What a ridiculous place to store weapons. _Finding Devil's Bane first, she pulled it out and handed it to Valen. "There you are! I hope it doesn't have rust."

He turned the spiked spheres over in his hands. "It's fine. I'm just relieved to have it back again. Hopefully your sword should be in the pool too." Suddenly he looked much more sombre. "I brought it back to you... before I died."

Touched by the gesture, Cora didn't think it was a good time to mention what had happened. She couldn't blame the cranky old sword for the way Mephistopheles had used him, but she still felt a certain discomfiture as she reached for the hilt. She wondered if Enserric would say anything, but he was entirely silent, making her wonder whether he still remained inside the sword at all.

"Booooossssss!"

Cora grinned as she turned around: if Deekin was looking slightly woozy, he certainly hadn't lost his voice. Not far away, Tomi had also materialised: in spite of Deekin's piercing cry he was fast asleep.

Deekin appeared such a small, slight figure that it was a marvel that he had not died long before this. He had survived so much with her, and was often far braver than he claimed. It struck Cora how often she had taken him for granted: fond of him as she was, she sometimes found him a nuisance. She vowed to herself that she would never treat him so carelessly again. Running rather unevenly to his side, she gathered him up in her arms, hugging him to her. "Ah, Deeks, it's wonderful to see you!"

"Deekin be happy to see you too, Boss!"

When she set him down on the floor again, he looked from her to Valen then back again. "Umm, Boss?"

"What is it?" She thought he would ask a question about where they were, or what their future plans were.

As usual, she was wrong. "Why yous got tail?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but it happened when I was resurrected."

Deekin nodded in the way he always did whenever anything strange occurred, with complete acceptance. He gave her a sly grin. "Yous and Goatman look like a couple, now that you both gots tails."

"Do we?" she said. _Are we? I'm not entirely sure, but I hope so. _She found herself flushing slightly, and she made sure to avoid looking around in case she met Valen's eyes. "Are you sure you don't mean partners in crime?"

"Whassat about crime?" said Tomi, finally awake. He rubbed his eyes. "I'm back again, then? I had a bit of a lucky escape just now. There I was, minding my own business when some busybody spirit comes along and tells me I've been back and forth so many times, they need to charge an entry tax." He winked. "Gave 'im the slip, though."

"They have taxes in the afterlife too? In that case, I'm glad I didn't get the chance to visit." Cora was feeling as cheery as the halfling thief, now that her companions had all returned. Whatever life had to throw at her next, she wouldn't be facing it on her own.

"So what's the plan, then?" said Tomi.

"Boss never has a plan," said Deekin, somewhat disloyally, Cora thought.

"I don't know where we are now, but it doesn't feel like the Underdark. We need to return there and make sure the rebels are safe," said Valen.

"I had a feeling you were gonna say that," said the rogue. "Don't you ever want to sit in a nice warm pub and count your reward money?"

"There's only one working doorway out of this place. Before we decide anything, we'd best figure out where it goes." Approaching the Reaper, Cora asked him.

"It leads only to Cania," he replied. There was no mistaking the note of regret in his voice.

Cora was sure she had heard the name before. Maybe Master Drogan mentioned it during one of his rather dry lectures on the nature of the multiverse. She had thought it a waste of time when she could have been practising sparring, but now she regretted her own inattentiveness. Before she could admit her ignorance, she heard Deekin speak behind her.

"Ooo, Deekin thinks Old Master mentioned that name once..."

"_I _know," said Valen. "I've been here before."

Hearing an odd roughness in his voice, Cora turned to look at him. Valen's expression was stony and his posture was almost entirely still, save for the brisk flick of the tip of his tail. Cora knew that look only too well. Either the Weapon Master sensed imminent danger or he was trying to keep a lid on his temper.

When he spoke again, Valen's voice was bleak. "We are in the Hells."


	30. Chapter 30 Colder

_This one jumps around a bit, location-wise. It took me more time to update than I hoped, but then it's pretty long. I was considering splitting it.  
_

**Chapter 30 – Colder**

"It could be worse." Even as Cora spoke, the icy air sliced into in her lungs. She was trying to reassure herself, and everyone else: it wasn't yet working.

"Could it?" said Valen, briefly looking back at her. His voice was curt, and if he didn't quite snap at her, it was obvious he was not in the best of moods. Cora could hardly blame him for that. He was the only one who had been here before, and given everything he had said about his past, she doubted his experiences were pleasant ones. _He won't talk about it, though. It's hard to prise more than two words out of him. _

"We're alive," she said. "That's worth something." When he didn't answer immediately, she carried on. "Yes, the weather's grim, but at least we're not plunged into constant darkness. We'll find a way to learn the Reaper's True Name, and then we can think about how to deal with Mephistopheles."

She thought she heard Valen laugh... until she saw his face, and realised it was only a grunt. "Fine," he said. "We should be finished in time for the next meal."

After giving Valen a quizzical look, Deekin sidled up to Cora. "This reminds Deekin of old times."

_Us being trapped in a strange, hostile environment? Me not having a clue how to proceed? Valen being tight-lipped, and me wondering what he's thinking? Or all of those? _"How do you mean?"

"When Deekin first met Boss, the land outside be covered in snow."

"True," she said. "I remember those long winters. I used to feel quite proud that I was hardier than half of the locals."

"I used to think it was bad in Neverwinter. D...d....didn't live up to it's name," said Tomi, his voice muffled under a spare cloak that he'd wrapped around his head, almost entirely obscuring his face. "B...bloody weather's going to finish me off at this rate."

Cora did not think he was exaggerating. She felt the chill seeping into her bones, too, and their progress was slow because they were trudging through deep snow. She didn't want to risk a prolonged stay outside.

As she walked on through the eddying snowfall, she began to make out the shape of a building on the horizon. Crafted from rusting metal, there were no windows to be seen, but then why would anyone want to let in such bitterly cold air_?_

"Signs of civilisation at last," she said to Valen. "Maybe we could go inside, warm up and ask some questions?

"Maybe, but I need to warn you. We're going to be surrounded by enemies around here."

"Then it'll be just like wandering around in the Underdark, won't it?"

He gave her a long look. "Worse. The Underdark wasn't populated by Baatezu. Even if they don't attack us first, I'll find it hard to resist the urge to fight them. So might you."

"That won't be a problem. I don't start fights for the sake of it."

Valen frowned and opened his mouth, apparently about to say more, then snapped it shut.

"Look, I know exactly what you're thinking," she said, pre-empting him. "I _have _started fights before, but never without good reason. You've got to admit, the slave-warden in Zorvak Mur was certainly asking for it."

"I wasn't thinking of him. When the two of us get too close to devils, we won't even need an excuse to fight." This time, when he sighed, his breath billowed out in a long plume, reminding her of the icy breath of Tymofarrar. He stopped. "You don't appreciate the trouble we're in, do you? I can say all I like to you on this subject, but you have no real experience of how it is between Baatezu and Tanar'ri."

She didn't need him to remind her that she was out of her depth once again, and she felt affronted. "Don't I? You should know by now that I'm not that inexperienced. I've fought a few devils before – and not so very long ago, I was killed by one. Without _any_ provocation on my part."

"Then that proves my point, doesn't it?"

"Does it? Since I didn't pick a fight with Mephistopheles, it shows that I'm perfectly capable of keeping control of my temper. I didn't fly into a rage just because he was standing near me." _I felt a sick feeling in my stomach, but that's only fair when someone's twice my size and has just disarmed me without moving a finger. _"I'll defend myself if someone starts on me, but the rest of the time I'll be careful. Look, I'll be fine... and I know you will be, too." Guessing that Valen was dwelling upon the past, she decided to change the subject. "Do you know this part of Cania at all?"

He shook his head. "I've only fought on the battlefields. We never managed to press far into any settlements, in spite of my master's efforts."

Deciding that her attempt to steer the conversation onto other matters wasn't entirely successful, Cora fell silent, and so did Valen.

On her way to the distant building, she could make out the shapes of a few low structures, not unlike market stalls: not knowing what she might face in the Hells, such a commonplace sight comforted her. As she slowly came closer, she saw the shapes of people standing around, but they were oddly insubstantial. At first she thought it a trick of her vision, due to the glare, but as she neared them she realised that she could see straight through them.

_Ghosts? It could have happened to me._ She wondered why she hadn't gone straight to Helm when she died. She felt sure that a god's will should be more powerful than that of an archdevil. _What if it wasn't his will, though? _It was a dispiriting thought, and she hoped she was wrong. _Watcher, forgive me my doubts. I can't expect to know your reasons. I only ask that you help me stay strong here. _

A heartrending scream pierced the air, rousing Cora from her silent prayer. She looked up, startled: one of the wraiths flared into a painfully bright glow before disappearing completely. The sound that followed was no less disturbing, a keening chorus from the other spirits.

"Deekin be glad he got his body back. It not sounds like much fun being dead here."

"No, I'm going to try harder to hang onto to my life, this time around." Cora could tell that the spirits had noticed their presence, but they did not appear hostile yet. "Do you think we should try talking to them?"

"You can try, but I don't know if you'll get a coherent answer." said Valen. "The dead don't sit well with me. I keep thinking of the faces of those I've killed, and whether I will recognise one of them here."

"See? That's why I'm a rogue," said Tomi. "You don't get that problem if you stab 'em in the back."

His quip reminded Cora of the way she must have died, and for a moment she felt a twinge of something – sadness or regret – from her sword, but the feeling passed quickly, and she wondered if she imagined it.

Beyond the group of ghosts were stalagmites of varying heights and shapes... or so Cora thought. As she walked closer, she realised that they were shaped like people caught in the ice. Some looked stoic, some had expressions of anger or fear but all looked as if they were sinking downwards to varying degrees.

"It's like a graveyard, but these aren't headstones," Cora said, chilled by the sight. "Deekin, could you conjure a flame, gentle enough to melt but not burn?"

Although Deekin's incantation melted the ice, it reformed almost instantaneously. It was enough to show that the woman trapped underneath was just as insubstantial as all the other ghosts, and only the layer of ice had made her appear solid.

One of the spirits drifted nearer. His voice was slow and drifting, oddly disconnected from his movements. "Such bright armour... we thought you were _her_ from a distance, but you're too warm. She was like us, slowly growing colder, but she acted like one of the live ones... until he stopped her. "

"Who are the people you speak of?" asked Cora.

"We don't remember names... just pain, ours and theirs. Yet _he _is the one who rules this domain."

"Mephistopheles," said Valen quietly.

"And the woman?"

"Air... no, that's not her name. We felt fire from her, passion as well as anger, and it drew us closer. She wanted to fight the inevitable. She kept the chill away, made us think we could escape this icy prison and go back to the warmth and the people we knew. She didn't want to give in, or forget. We believed her but it was futile. No matter how long it takes, we all become the ice. So cold. So..."

The wraith's form suddenly stiffened as if he were made of sinew, bone and flesh rather than mist. Cora flinched as he let out the same anguished scream she had heard earlier from another corpse. As before, he vanished from sight almost instantaneously.

"What's happening? Where did he go?" Cora asked another ghost, but the creature was talking to itself.

"Don't hurt me - please, I won't do it again – please, I'm begging you!" The panicky voice was female, yet the ghost appeared male. His hands batted away an unseen enemy. Another woman talked with a child's voice before she began weeping with loud, choking sobs. As she walked further into the group, she found that others were equally distracted, caught up in their own disquieting visions.

Feeling a warm hand resting on her arm, she turned and saw Valen. "I don't believe we can help them." he said.

"I know," she said. "I used to see people like this at the temple of Helm, sometimes. Their relatives would bring them in, hoping for a cure. Most of the time, there was nothing to be done with the patients."

_If it helps at all, I have done some... ah, research on these matters long ago. _

She was so taken aback that she spoke aloud. "Enserric?"

_Indeed – unless you have anyone else who regularly speaks to you in your mind? _

_I was beginning to wonder if you... went away. _She kept walking as she silently communicated with the sword.

_I assume that's a euphemism, since for some strange reason, my mobility happens to be limited whilst trapped in this form. This... feels rather awkward, doesn't it? Do you remember everything?_

_Not all of it, and I'm not sure I want to know, either. At least you apologised first before killing me. _

_Much as I enjoy bloodletting, biting the hand that wields me certainly wasn't my plan. I hope you can forgive me._

She thought about it. Now that they had spoken, the awkwardness was fading. _ I know it was out of your control. Just don't do it again._

_I'd rather not. Especially since your blood leaves a quite disgusting aftertaste._

_Uh... I think that calls for a change of subject. What were you going to say about the spirits?_

_I read a rather fascinating tome about the Hells once. Apparently souls go to the Hells for a variety of reasons. Some will have worshipped someone from here, or entered into a pact with a devil. With the less lucid spirits, they are consumed by the pain they once inflicted upon others._

_A punishment? I'm surprised that Mephistopheles would care enough about their victims to do that. _

_Oh, I doubt very much that he cares... but he might take pleasure in their suffering._

* * *

On a windy, hilltop street, Amadei stood by a weathered front door, waiting for his wife to arrive.

_Late. Probably fixing her hair. Just like she was on her wedding day, all those years ago. _Today was not such a happy occasion, however: they were attending a funeral. The deceased was a stranger to him, but Helene had been with her when she died.

The matter had caused a surprising amount of conflict between them. He was taken aback that she should pay gold to consult a fortune-teller without telling him a word about it: she had angrily replied that she was the only one burdened with worry about their daughter, and had given up on trying to confide in him. It was untrue, of course.

He knew that dwelling upon Cora's possible fate would not help Helene, or anyone else. All he could do was remind himself of his foster-daughter's resilience and her tendency to fall on her feet. He could only hope that the Gods would look as kindly upon her this time. _Yet whenever people go to fight for a cause, not everyone will come back. I know that too well from my younger days, before I married and tried to raise a family. A hard lesson, and one that my dear wife never had to learn._

An old, rather portly woman approached: there was a flash of recognition in her eyes before she adopted a more guarded expression.

"Good afternoon... Ruby," he said.

"Good afternoon, Watcher Amadei. How strange that I should have the urge to call you Brother, after all these years."

He did not answer: he did not know what to say to that.

Perhaps she saw his silence as a snub, for her complexion turned a little redder. "I shouldn't stand out in the street and chitchat," said the paladin-turned-innkeeper. " I wouldn't wish to embarrass a member of the Order."

She was being sarcastic, and yet she was right. He held her no personal malice, but she had fallen some years ago, and he could not associate with her unless she truly had the desire to try to make peace with her Lord. As far as he knew, she had been angry and bitter enough with Helm that she had no such intention.

_I always wondered when it would happen to me, deep down. Not for adopting a tiefling, but for lying to her so many times, even if by omission. _He sighed, exasperated by his own doubts. _ I did it for her own good, and it must have been what Helm wanted, or I would have fallen long ago._

He saw Helene approaching, and he waved to her. She smiled, yet there was an underlying anxiety in her expression: he saw her glance down the road. "I thought you would wait inside for me," she said, and he knew what she meant. _People might talk, seeing you loitering outside the home of a woman who was little more than a witch._ Helene was more concerned about appearances than he. It reminded him quite how desperate she must have felt, if she was prepared to visit such a woman. He only wished that she had told him about it first.

Inside, her friends were assembled: a handful of people, neighbours or former clients. They all seemed to know one another, and the atmosphere was convivial enough. Slowly, in groups of one or two, they filed into the room next door, to pay their last respects, and when someone nodded to Helene, he followed his wife into the room.

He let Helene go forward first: he overheard a muttered prayer. She paused, then spoke again.

"I wish I knew what you saw before your death. I wonder what frightened you so badly?"

"There are some matters we are not meant to examine too deeply," said Amadei. He was trying to reassure her, but he could tell Helene did not take it that way: her mouth tightened.

"I know that! I only gave myself even more cause for worry by coming here, and I fear that I caused this poor woman's death..."

"She was elderly. You mustn't blame yourself for-" He broke off as he sensed a change in the atmosphere in the room.

At first he thought it was a trick of the light. The room faced west, and the shutters were thrown wide open, allowing the late afternoon sun to cast a gilded glow over the sarcophagus. _No, it's not the sun. This feels supernatural. _Silently, he called on his Lord for protection. Whilst the ward formed around the two of them, he saw the body of the old woman fading from sight, as if someone was spiriting her away.

He heard Helene's low gasp – she had seen it too. "What's happening? What shall we do?"

He rushed forward, but by the time he reached the sarcophagus, the body had vanished completely.

* * *

As Cora walked up the steps, Valen held the door open for her, but the set scowl on his face told her that his mind was elsewhere. He had been silent for the rest of the way here, and that did not surprise her, for the journey was increasingly tiring the longer they walked. Even so, she could have stood there with her eyes shut, and she would have felt the tension radiating from him.

Looking down into the cavernous room, she saw that it was empty, for now. In the right-hand corner were a motley array of packing crates while the opposite corner held a desk and a chair, both battered and charred. At the far end of the room was a door, as solid-looking as the one she had just walked through. She glanced again at Valen, then back at Tomi and Deekin. "Do you think you could go on ahead for a moment? I need to ask Valen something." Noticing Deekin opening his mouth to protest, she added "Tiefling matters."

"Ooo, that sounds like a secret!" the kobold said, appearing enthusiastic for the first time in a while.

"It isn't, honestly, and you need time to catch up on your note-taking, now that we're in an unfamiliar place." She could tell by the look on Deekin's face that he wasn't persuaded.

"Come on, uncle Tomi knows when he's not wanted. They're only gonna compare tail lengths or something." Tomi winked at her before dragging the reluctant-looking bard away.

"What was it you wanted?" said Valen.

_Reassurance, mostly. _She sat down on a small packing crate, thinking he would settle on one of the others. He stayed where he was. "You've been rather quiet." she began. "I just wanted to know how you were."

"How I am? Fine. Save for the fact that I'm trapped in a plane that is hostile in every sense of the word, we have been sent on a quest which sounds impossible and there's a real risk of us coming to a bloody end. If we don't die of exposure first."

"Good to know you're keeping your spirits up," she said, and was answered only by a snort. The ensuing silence felt uncomfortable, although Valen made no move to walk away.

She tried again. "Then it's fair to say that you don't like this place much?" _As if that isn't obvious to both of us. _

"Much?" He grimaced. "I would rather be anywhere rather than here."

_Anywhere? Would you rather be dead? _She struggled to keep her dismay out of her voice. "It's been a shock to me too, finding out where we are. I never thought I would ever say this, but I'd rather be in the Underdark right now. Even so, I'm grateful that I have some kind of a fighting chance, however small it is." _ I have to ask him. _She felt a twinge of apprehension, but she knew if she didn't say what was on her mind, she would only dwell upon it later on. "You... you almost sound sorry that I called you back. Are you?"

He didn't answer straight away, and she forced herself to look upwards. He was gazing down at the floor, his face betraying an emotion she could not name. "This isn't easy for me. This place triggers all kinds of memories, none of them good... as if they happened yesterday. " His eyes met hers. "Still, I made my choice. Willingly."

"I didn't think to ask where I was, before the Reaper revived you. Jumping in feet first, yet again. I just wanted to have our little gang back together again and... I wanted to see you. I'm sorry to land you in this mess."

He crouched down, half-kneeling in front of her. "I wouldn't want to think of you stuck here without a guide to the Hells, even if I'm the most pessimistic one you could have. You're coping well, though. Better than I am."

"I'm trying my best. Hey, you don't think I'm Baatezu, do you?" she said, feeling relieved enough to make a jest.

For an instant his eyes widened, then he relaxed, smiling at her in a way that made her feel slightly light-headed. "I'm sure I could tell the difference. I may not have known you for very long, but I've come to feel quite close to you."

"I'm glad," she said, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips, "because it's mutual."

Slipping one hand behind her head and another around her waist, he drew her closer, kissing her deeply in return. For the first time since they went out into that frigid landscape, she felt like he needed her too, that it was not all one-way. _ Warmth and life. _

"Now I'm sure you're not Baatezu," he murmured, his voice faintly unsteady.

She laughed. "Well, if you need any more convincing-"

"Umm... Boss?" Cora heard Deekin call across the room, and she groaned inwardly. _Why now, Deeks? _She gave a little shake of her head before noticing the kobold was gesturing frantically towards the furthest end of the room. Tomi was nowhere in sight.

It was then that she heard a voice that sounded like rubble being ground together. "If that sodding machine isn't fixed by the time I come back, I'm going to rip off someone's head and shove it right up their arse. Not that it'll make any difference, since my so-called workers spend their whole time talking out of theirs!"

The answering voice was sullen and feminine. "Not my problem. I'm on my break, I didn't cause it and fixing machinery isn't in my job contract. Got that?"

"Dealing with a bunch of addle-coved incompetents isn't in my contract either, but I have to do it anyway! Day after day after sodding day, and it grinds my nuts. Got _that, _berk?"

There was an almighty crash: after a quick exchange of glances with Valen, Cora stood up and hurried around the corner to see what was going on.

The gravel-voiced creature standing at the far end of the room was a devil, as tall as Mephistopheles and covered with overlapping scales: the wall next to him had a large, fist-shaped dent in it. Safely out of reach, a winged woman hovered in the air. Fair of face apart from her dismissive sneer, she was naked save for an artfully-placed assortment of straps, as if the climate affected her not at all.

As the devil launched into another tirade, Cora felt a tap on her elbow. Tomi had managed to sneak behind her, and even now his appearance had a certain blurriness around the edges, as if a stealth spell was fading. "I don't reckon that devil's in a mood to answer our questions right now. Maybe we'd better make a quick exit, eh?" He looked upwards at the winged woman. "Pity though, 'cause the scenery's much better in here."

Cora couldn't help noticing the ring that Tomi quickly slipped onto one of his fingers, and she guessed he had already found something to pilfer from here. Turning to see Valen, and observing the tense, tightly-wound way he was watching the devil, she decided to take the halfling's advice.

* * *

The Seer sat in her new abode, a room hastily assigned to her. Ferron had told her that it once belonged to Aghaaz, the leader of the flesh golems: some of his writings were still here, religious tracts about their creator. She could not help wondering whether the mysterious Maker was hidden away somewhere in the furthest reaches of the dungeon, but for the present time, they were safe.

_How long will that last, I wonder? I hoped everything had changed for the better, after the battle. Yet here am I again, camped out in someone else's home, seeking sanctuary. _

The one item she had unpacked so far was her precious Mirror of All-Seeing. Her last glimpse into its silvered depths had shown her that Mephistopheles was heading towards Lith My'athar, flanked by a small army of undead. The sight of old comrades marching with former enemies, all blank-eyed and fully armed, had prompted her decision to gather her dwindling band of rebels and flee the city.

Outside the room she could hear the murmurings of passers-by in the hallway, some disgruntled: not everyone agreed with the move. The golems were uneasy about the return to their old home, but she had been able to persuade Ferron: some of his brothers were damaged beyond repair during the war, and he did not wish to see even more losses before they found a permanent home. Some of the drow believed they should stay and fight, just as they had done with the Valsharess, but the Seer's intuition urged her not to underestimate this new threat. She had told them it was a temporary precaution, but she could not be certain it was so.

_I must pray that the archdevil doesn't come after us. I have a strong feeling that he ultimately seeks another prize._

She was roused from her thoughts by a soft tapping on the door: when she went to answer it, she found Lavoera standing there.

"Could I come in? There's something that's been preying on my mind." As the Seer stepped aside, gesturing to a seat, Lavoera spoke again. "I realised something while we were travelling on the boat here, but I did not get the chance to speak with you. Do you remember me once telling you about being sent here by my superiors? They wanted me to pass on a message to someone, warning them that they were being unwittingly influenced by the hand of evil. The only problem was that I didn't know who it was meant for."

"Of course." The Seer knew that that some of her allies found Lavoera deeply annoying, with her scatterbrained, somewhat naïve disposition. Yet during the deva's stay in Lith My'athar, the priestess had grown to like her. The girl was undoubtedly sincere, and had worked tirelessly to help heal the wounded over the last day or two. "Have you learned something new about that message?"

The deva nodded. "I keep wondering whether it was intended for Cora. If it was, then I'm afraid that I've failed miserably." She looked down at her dainty feet. "You see, she was the last person I could have imagined as the recipient. It's probably a failing of mine, but it's difficult to fully overcome your doubts when you have been brought up to understand that tieflings are abominations."

"Many would say the same about my own people." The Seer's thoughts turned to Cora and Valen. Of all the people who had fallen in battle recently, she took the Weapon Master's loss the hardest. It was one thing to bid farewell to a friend, knowing he was about to embark on a new phase in his life. It was another to know that he died, immersed once more in the despair which had followed him like a curse for most of his days. _ I can't even truly accept it. I witnessed his death in the Mirror, yet I can't shake the feeling that both he and Cora are alive somewhere, out of reach. _

"I hope I haven't offended you. I was about to say that I came to trust both her and General Shadowbreath, even if I couldn't help feeling uncomfortable in their presence."

"I understand. Please, go on."

"I have a feeling that the hand of evil was that of Mephistopheles. I suspect he was manipulating the situation more than we thought, even while he was a prisoner of the Valsharess. That sounds rather silly when I say it aloud, doesn't it?" Golden eyes, as innocent as a small child's, gazed at the Seer.

"Not at all. I think that's a reasonable guess. I doubt that the archdevil made a snap decision to stay here, and I fear that he has longer-term plans. I don't understand how he could exert much influence over Cora, though. She had no contact with Mephistopheles before she was taken to the fortress, and I think her ancestry must have been Tanar'ri, just like Valen." Suddenly she felt a sense of heightened awareness, as if the air itself was charged: involuntarily, she shivered. _Cold. _She raised her hand, hoping that the deva would understand what was happening: she needed to concentrate, not let this slip through her fingers unnoticed.

Two images followed in quick succession. One was of an icy plain, its glare blinding to her eyes: the other was a recent memory. She had been talking with Imloth, after scrying in the Mirror, and she had suddenly felt the sense that someone else was watching them in turn. As soon as her eyes had beheld the cat, she had guessed it was someone's familiar, but the wily animal had evaded her attempts to find it.

_With hindsight, I wonder if she managed to spy on some of my visions, too. She? _ _The Valsharess? No, it can't be – she was already dead when the latest incident happened. _

Still mulling over the vision, the Seer spoke to Lavoera. "Your words have given me pause for thought. I need to meditate further upon this: please tell the others I am not to be disturbed for a while."

As soon as the deva had left the room, she turned to the Mirror once more.

* * *

He hadn't admitted to himself how cold he was getting, but the heat rushed to Valen's skin when he walked through the tavern doorway. Watching the others, he saw them visibly relax.

"A pub in the Hells? It's a bit more bearable here than I thought," said the halfling. It was the first time he had uttered a word in a while, an event so unusual that he must have been suffering more than the rest of them combined.

"Better still, it's warm enough that they must keep a fire going in here. It's such a relief to be indoors again," said Cora. Turning to him, she gave him a half-smile. "Wouldn't you agree?"

The room beyond looked crowded, and even without looking he knew there were devils around, for their acrid scent pervaded the air. "No doubt the temperature will prove warmer than the welcome," he muttered, but he tried to smile back, just for her sake.

_It's not all Baatezu here, _he told himself as he followed her through the room. _Loitering slaadi, some glum-looking giths, a scattering of ghosts..._

...and _erinyes, lest I forget what plane I'm in. _One of them shoved her way past Cora, making a loud, exaggerated sniff as she passed. He saw Cora turn to watch the other woman as she retreated, her eyes narrowing slightly and her mouth pursed. He did not know if she felt the same instinctive antipathy as he did, or whether she was simply annoyed by the other woman's manner.

"How is it that they don't feel the cold, dressed like that?" she said.

"No idea, but who cares?" said Tomi cheerfully. "This place reminds me of a pub I used to visit in Calimport – well, it was more of a brothel, but they had these dancing girls with huge-."

Valen's attention was caught by a shadow cast from a nearby doorway. _ In the shape of a dragon's head? _

"Look, Boss! See, I told you that some dragons be friendly."

"But we don't know that-" Cora didn't get much chance to protest. Deekin grabbed her hand, pulling her along, and Valen followed in their stead.

The dragon looked down his nose at their motley group with an air of world-weary amusement. The room seemed too small to house him, and instead of treasure, numerous bottles and casks lined the walls.

"You're the innkeeper? A _dragon _innkeeper?" said Cora.

"Live for long enough, and you get bored with raiding villages." He brought his long snout closer to them. "If you must know the dark of it, I inherited the place when I ate the proprietor, but I'm here to sell drinks, not tell you my life story. Oh, and before you ask, we use metal cups only."

"Why?"

The dragon gave a deep sigh, closing his eyes momentarily. "Are you really so clueless?"

Valen whispered to Cora. "The fights must be so frequent that anything else gets smashed." He noticed the hint of a tremor as his lips brushed her ear, and he couldn't help feeling pleased.

Meanwhile the dragon was peering at Deekin with some curiosity. "A kobold? I haven't seen one of those for a while – but what's this? Wings?"

The kobold's wings shook, but he stood up a little straighter. "Deekin be a bard but he also be turning into a dragon. Slowly."

The dragon made a rumbling sound that might have been either laughter or indigestion. "_Extremely _slowly, by the look of it."

"We should sort out some practicalities," said Cora. "We'll be needing food, somewhere to sleep, maybe something to chase off the cold?"

"I thought you'd never ask." A wing extended to sweep over the shelves, somehow managing to avoid knocking anything down. "The usual kinds of bub and there's meat if you need a meal. Rooms are in short supply ever since the planar gates were shut by the big M, but you're in luck. One of my guests quit her room earlier, complaining the drow's forge made it too hot. Pathetic whiner."

"I'll take it," said Cora. "If it's warm, all the better."

"Wait," said Valen. "What was that about drow? I wouldn't expect to see one of those here."

"Do I look like I care? He's a ghost, but he brings in the jink, since everyone needs to keep their weapons sharp. Go pester him instead, if you're that curious."

* * *

_Planar slang translations obtained with the help of of Voila's Dictionary of Planar Cant at Mimir net._

addle-coved – idiotic

bub – wine or ale

dark - secret

jink - gold


	31. Chapter 31 Mysteries

**Chapter 31 – Mysteries**

"Why did you go to Cania when you die? How could that happen?"

Rizolvir seemed unimpressed by Valen's line of questioning: he continued polishing his blade before looking up. In spite of his ethereal form, the metal still brightened under his touch. "I have no idea: it wasn't as if I was given a choice at the time. I could ask the same of you. Why would you visit the Hells? You always told us that you were part-demon."

Cora's eyes darted sideways: she relaxed a little when she saw that no-one was near enough to overhear. _This suspicion is getting infectious._

Valen scowled. "I know what I am, but it's irrelevant. Unlike you, I'm not dead." He paused. "Not any more."

"How fortunate for you – although I find the afterlife more familiar than I was expecting. Now that the forge is running, my work is much the same as it as in the Underdark. Only now my customers are devils and githzerai pilgrims instead of drow."

"Pilgrims?" asked Cora. "Why would anyone make a pilgrimage here?"

"I don't know much about it. They came here looking for someone called the Sleeping Man, and now their leader won't even let them see him until they can answer various questions. In terms of pointless quests, I think you'll find that one hard to match." His eyes glinted with amusement. "She has a temple of sorts where she keeps him hidden away: go and beg her for a private viewing, if you're so curious."

After walking away from the heat of Rizolvir's forge, the group explored the rest of the inn, trying to strike up conversations with anyone who did not look as if they were ready to start a fight. Once or twice, Cora tried asking if anyone might know the Reaper's True name: the question was met with incredulity. Just one woman, a hardened quarry worker, made a suggestion.

"Go and wigwag at the githzerai sensei up in the temple. Living book, she is."

"How do you mean, exactly?" said Cora, finding the slang near-incomprehensible.

The woman sneered, exposing a row of pointed, mostly blackened teeth. "She's got the dark about many things stuffed away in that bone-box of hers, which is more than I can say for you."

After getting a quick translation from Valen, Cora decided it would be a good idea to go out once more to investigate the temple. The chill that assailed her once they ventured outside seemed worse than before, but she reminded herself that her face was no longer numb, which would make all the difference. Doggedly, she stumbled through the snow, stopping only to check directions with a lone githzerai who was harvesting berries from a ragged plant. Whilst the plant looked barely alive, with tattered, wilting leaves, its fruit glowed as if lit with an inner spark.

"Amazing, that a plant can grow out of such thick ice. You'd think that nothing could survive at all," said Cora conversationally.

The woman looked up briefly, her dull yellow eyes narrowing. "I've been working this patch for a while now. Me and the other pilgrims have a deal with the innkeeper. If you're after berries, pike off and find your own!" In spite of her unfriendly manner, she looked more exhausted than aggressive.

"I don't want berries. I'd just like to ask for directions, that's all."

"Oh? Do I look like one of the locals?" The woman sighed. "Don't even answer that. No point in thinking of home, when there's no way out of this city any more."

"There has to be a way, surely. I know the Reaper can't send anyone to any other planes right now, but surely there are other ways out of Cania?"

"Why do I think this is gonna involve walking through too much snow?" said Tomi.

"That's the easy part... compared with swimming through the rivers of fire," answered Valen.

The githzerai stared at Cora, only the faintest curiosity enlivening her bored expression briefly. "You won't even get that far. By the temple of the Sleeping Man you can see the so-called gates of Cania: two big gateposts with sod-all in between them. In the planes, everything is supposed to come into being via belief. You know how many berks have stood out there, trying their best to visualise the sodding gate? It's probably all a lie, like the stupid pilgrimage that got us into this mess in the first place. Even if there was a way out of here, we'd still be in the Hells, so what difference would it make? Might as well face up to the fact that we're all trapped until we freeze to death or die of boredom."

Cora wasn't ready to face up to anything of the sort. "I was looking for the temple, but I'd also like to see these gateposts. Could you tell me where they are?"

The woman gave a cursory jerk of her head leftward. "They're both that way. Keep walking and you'll find them, because there's nowhere else to go in this dump." She shoved the last of the berries into a pouch and shuffled away.

It was hard to tell how much distance the group covered before they saw another building, for the snowfall made visibility poor. Most likely it seemed like a long walk only because of the effort involved in lifting each foot out of the thick, impacted powder to take each step. _I can't even feel my feet right now, and we've not been out here for long. _

"Deekin sees something ahead. You thinks that be the temple that the miserable gith lady be talking about?"

With a goal in their sights, they managed to make slightly faster progress. Near the side of the building, two huge pillars stood erect with nothing more than empty space between them. Behind the pillars was a cliff of solid, slippery ice, high enough that its summit could not be seen.

"I can't believe there was ever a gate there," said Cora. "It doesn't even lead anywhere."

"Unless it's a portal," said Valen. "I can't see any trace of its presence, though, unlike the closed doorways in the Gatehouse."

After one half-hearted attempt to stand between the pillars to see what happened, Cora walked away. The doorway to the temple was nearby, solid and tangible, offering a chance to escape the icy air for a short time.

As they walked inside, Cora paused, looking around herself. If the Hellbreath Tavern had been overcrowded with a motley mix of planar folk, this place was empty save for books, neatly yet tightly crammed onto the shelves that punctuated the space. She stopped by a bookshelf, absently laying her hand on one of the spines, its title written in a language she could not understand: her fingertips traced over the tooled surface. She smelled leather, and the faint mustiness of old parchment: the scent sparked a wistful longing within her, and at first she could not understand why.

Valen was standing near to her: she heard him speak. "Do you like to read?"

"Sometimes," she answered, looking around. "Bard's tales, most often."

"Like Deekin writes!"

"These are probably scholarly works. Even if I could read the language, I'd probably lose patience fairly quickly." _It's not the books that draw me, _she thought. _It's the stillness and the silence. "_Funny," she said. "This place reminds me of home – or my old temple, at least."_. Before I started to feel resentful, because I could never serve them in the way I wanted. When I used to go in there and feel a sense of peace, whatever kind of day I'd had._

She saw something change in Valen's face, as if he too had a memory passing through his mind. "We were supposed to be travelling to the surface, before all of this happened. Would you have taken me there? Not to the temple, but to your home?"

It was odd how the question made her feel a pang of guilt, in spite of the fact that it was expressed with nothing more loaded than curiosity. She realised that she couldn't imagine walking through her home town with Valen. _Ashamed? No, never. He simply looks like he belongs somewhere else, not in my homeland. He would be an object of curiosity to some, perhaps even fear – and the same would apply to me, now. "_Of course I'd take you, if you wanted to go. After we're done with Waterdeep."

For a moment she thought she saw his face soften, but it quickly took on a closed expression once more. "Thank you... but it matters little, right now. I'm not even sure there's a way out of this city, let alone the Hells."

"Don't believe the woman we met earlier. I'm sure there's a way out."

"There always be a way out of everywhere," said Deekin. "Boss and little Deekin thinks they be trapped in a place a couple of times before, but they always gets out in the end."

"Like the last time, in the Underdark?" countered Valen.

"Deekin not wants to think about that too hard."

_Nor do I, _thought Cora. She had not thought to ask the Reaper what would happen if any of them died here: she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Noticing a stand where a larger book stood open, she walked over to look at it: Deekin followed her, standing on tiptoe to look. At first she thought she could not understand the script, but it blurred before her eyes, and suddenly the words were clear to her.

She read of the Sleeping Man, and his journey out into Cania's bleak wilderness. "Well, if nothing else, it proves there was another way out of this city, besides the gatehouse. This doesn't mention the Reaper." She turned to Valen, who had moved closer to her. "Perhaps if we talk to this Sleeping Man, he'll help us?"

She saw the faintest lift of his eyebrow. "We have to find a way to wake him first. I'd guess he's a particularly sound sleeper."

"The smell of coffee always worked for me," she said, grinning at him.

"He is not to be disturbed." Looking up, Cora saw that the voice came from a woman standing by an inner doorway. Her high, tipless nostrils and her grey-green skin reminded Cora of the woman who had been harvesting berries outside, but this one had an air of authority and quiet composure. She walked forward, her pace controlled and smooth. "I am Dharvana, the sensei here. You are most welcome in this haven of peace and learning, as long as you respect the rules."

"I would be happy to comply, but I don't yet know what they are," answered Cora.

"They are simple enough...although another one of your kind has recently tried to circumvent them." She frowned. Her golden eyes focused upon Cora, and they glowed a little more brightly. "You must forgive me. The one whom I speak of is a cynic, a joker who respects nothing. You are different, I think. You are in search of something. I can tell, because it is written upon your brow."

Cora resisted the impulse to touch her forehead. "It is? Do you mean that you can read the thoughts of others?'

"To an extent."

"Or you purport to," Valen murmured.

Cora felt doubtful too. Her recent experiences had somewhat dented any faith she had in psychics, but she wasn't about to question a stranger's beliefs when she needed help. "It's true that I am seeking something. I need to find out the Reaper's True Name, in order to find a way out of Cania."

"And is that what you truly need? Could it be that you are in the right place, here and now?"

"No. I need to get back to the Prime Material Plane."

The sensei looked somewhat disappointed by the answer, as if Cora was missing the point. "Most people do not even know their own True Names. There is a being somewhere in Cania called the Knower of Names. I know this because the Sleeping man undertook a great journey across the frozen wastes, encountering many trials while he went in search of her."

"He did? Would the Sleeping Man be able to tell me where I can find her?"

"The Sleeping Man does not _speak_!" the sensei cried, holding up her hands. "He dreams... such deep, emotional dreams, tinged with pain and sorrow but also great beauty. I have been honoured to witness them."

"You spy on his dreams?" said Valen.

Dharvana looked almost hurt. "You make it sound like some perverse form of entertainment. It is not. I am sure that he allows me the privilege of reading his mind. It is through his dreams that I discovered the Fivefold Mysteries of the Sleeping Man. He must want me to study and interpret them, so that others may learn too."

While the sensei was speaking to Valen, Tomi tapped Cora on the arm. Seeing the shifty look on his face, she crouched down, and he whispered to her. "Keep her talking."

As Cora straightened up, she saw Tomi idly scanning one of the bookshelves before turning the corner, out of sight. She wasn't sure what he was up to, but she also had the feeling that the sensei was so caught up in dreams of her own that it would be hard to find out any information. "Do you teach these mysteries?"

Dharvana smiled warmly at Cora. "Only in part. We are all teachers, in our way. I am happy to start you upon your road by sharing one of the mysteries with you, but no more than that, for a vital part of the experience is the pilgrim's own quest. The first question is as follows: who is the Sleeping Man? The answer is that he is a celestial being, a creature of good. No-one who beholds him could ever think otherwise."

"Could we go to see him?"

"Ah, this is encouraging! This shows me that the tenets of the Sleeping Man can truly spread more widely, beyond the confines of the little group who came with me. Alas, even they have failed to persevere for long. If you were to learn the Mysteries, perhaps some of them might find their motivation once more."

Remembering the woman gathering berries, Cora had an inkling why. "Maybe they're just cold, tired and disheartened. I can imagine this place would wear people down."

"They freely chose to follow me, in order to experience something new and remarkable... yet they brought their old habits of thought along for the trip, refusing to truly engage with the pilgrimage. All I have heard from them is complaints, but I never once told them it would be easy. That is why I am pleased that you are keen to learn. Oh, how wonderful it would be to have even one person who truly understands what the Sleeping Man is!"

"Then let us visit him, so that we may understand."

"Not so fast. I have made sure to protect him from noise or idle curiosity. It would be a great joy to me to allow others to experience his presence, but you will gain little benefit if you simply walked in. You must learn and recite the other four Mysteries first."

"How can I learn them? Are they written in the books?"

"No, but I can tell you that I do not always tell my visitors the same answers. Your task is to gather up the fragments of truth, scattered around this city."

"Deekin thinks the lady means we gots to question lots of people."

"It's not as if we have any sense of urgency," said Valen, his voice dry as dust.

"I'll do it, as long as I can see him after that," Cora said, although she too was feeling frustrated by their lack of progress. "Can I just ask about something else? Is it true that the pillars outside are the posts for an invisible gate?"

"The Sleeping Man's dreams indicate that he passed through that gate on his journey, but his method is as yet unclear to me. I have a hypothesis that his eyes are attuned to a frequency that less evolved beings cannot see." Her tone of voice was reverent. "Which reminds me that I need to look up something. I am sorry, but I must get back to my books soon."

"We'll leave you for the moment, then." As Cora walked away, the sensei retreated to a small side room.

"The Seer used to have some other topics of conversation besides religion," said Valen as they neared the door. "Right now, I'm feeling very grateful for that."

"Faithless man," Cora said lightly. Noticing that only Valen and Deekin flanked her, she looked around. "Where's Tomi?"

"You!" Dharvana's voice rang out. "Get away from there! Now!" Marching across the room, the sensei grabbed Tomi by his collar and hauled him away.

"All right, all right! I was only admiring your door carvings, and very nice they are too. Is that against your rules?"

"I saw you. You were trying to stuff something inside the lock. A lockpick, perhaps?"

"Lock-what? Dunno what you're talking about."

"If I find out that you're in collusion with that Swift fellow, I will be very angry."

"Wait a moment - Swift who?" asked Cora. "I don't know who you're talking about."

The sensei gave her an appraising look. "I don't believe that youare lying to me, but I cannot say the same about your small friend. He is no longer welcome here. The rest of you may visit another time, if you prove your serious intent by learning the Mysteries... but I think it's best that you leave now."

"It looks like you're losing your touch," remarked Valen as they made for the door.

"Yeah?" said Tomi. "That's a bit rich coming from someone whose favourite lockpicking technique is to bash doors down."

"I can pick locks when I choose to," said Valen. "My flail does the job quicker."

"You only do it to impress the ladies," muttered Tomi. "All it takes is one bat of Cora's eyelashes, and you're straight in there, bashing away."

"I don't bat my eyelashes!" Cora protested, whilst trying to recall any times when it might have looked that way.

Once they were outside once more, the cutting wind soon banished all thoughts of foolishness. "What were you trying to do in there, Tomi?" she asked. "Trying to get a look at the Sleeping Man?"

"Yep, Well, that and a quick look at whatever else she's got locked away. Couldn't get through, though. I dunno what they use for locks around here, but it's fiendishly clever." Tomi nudged Cora. "Fiendish, 'cause we're in the Hells, geddit?"

"It's strange," said Valen. "Much as the sensei reveres this Sleeping Man, I almost get the impression that she's keeping him prisoner."

"I don't think she would see it that way," said Cora, "but she's over-protective, to say the least."

Seeing a githzerai man approaching, she called out to him. "Are you going in to recite the Mysteries?"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm curious, at the very least. You were a pilgrim once, surely?"

"Oh, yes." He mimicked Dharvana's voice. "'Learn what it is to truly feel' the sensei said. I believed her at the time. Know what I'm feeling right now?"

"No." Cora admitted.

"Freezing," said the disaffected pilgrim. "That's all I've learned from visiting Cania. I'm beginning to think this Sleeping Man doesn't exist, and it's all some absurd romantic fantasy of Dharvana's. Like the time when she told me the third Mystery."

"What was it?"

"You really want to know, don't you? She asked why the Sleeping Man left, and do you know what the answer was? It was because his heart had known no love. Pathetic, isn't it?" He shrugged, and was about to walk away when Cora stopped him.

"You said he left. Left where?"

"How in the Hells should I know? I'd guess that must be the second Mystery, but the sensei won't tell me more. I only go in there now to get out of the cold."

As the man walked away, shouldering his way through the temple doors, Cora turned to Deekin. "We'd best keep track. We've got the first and the third so far, I think. Are you writing them down?"

"Deekin can't write out here, Boss. Maybes we could go back to the inn for a while?" His voice sounded slightly querulous: Cora did not know to what extent kobolds felt the cold, but he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Come on, then. Let's go warm up."

0-0-0

It was the kobold who spotted the crystal obelisk rising up from the ice on the way back to the inn. "Boss? This crystal not be made of ice. Deekin sure something flicker inside it. Yous think someone small be trapped in there?"

Valen made an effort to quell his impatience. The effort didn't entirely succeed. "Do you have to stop and look at everything which attracts your attention?"

Deekin took no notice, his face pressed up against one of the planes of the crystal. "A dark place... with a big pile of dead peoples? Oh! Deekin thinks this looks familiar!"

"Let's have a look, Deeks." As Deekin stepped aside, Cora stood with her face pressed against the crystal as if peering through a window, hands cupped around her eyes.

Valen heard a sharp intake of breath from Cora, followed by one word. "Drow."

Suddenly he was curious too. "What is it? What do you see?"

She broke away to look up at him, and he saw something in her eyes that looked close to dread. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I think you should take a look."

As he took over her viewing point, he heard her say, "I wondered if you might recognise someone. I don't know whether they're allies or enemies."

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. As he was about to ask Cora what she meant, the darkness within took on shapes. He saw corpses with obsidian skin and blood-matted white hair, all thrown together in a messy heap by the bank of a fast-flowing river. He knew no-one would risk polluting usable water by leaving them nearby. _ Unless the water's already poisonous. The Dark River. Lith My'athar._

Like Cora, he could not tell whether they were friends or foes: the crystal's viewpoint was not close enough, as if he was looking out from a nearby building. _ By the pits of Hell! _He could hear his own breathing, feel its vapour mist his cheeks as he tried to press his face closer.

At the edge of the pile, one limb twitched, and then another. _ Still alive? Even now? _ As the woman pulled her way out, he caught a brief glimpse of her face: it was not one he recognised. He knew she must be an enemy, one of the many allies of the Valsharess that they had felled during the great battle. He could see now that not all of the bodies were drow: some were duergar too.

_Where are our people? Why hasn't the Seer ordered these bodies to be thrown in the river? _

He heard screams in the distance, one after the other, piercing and terrible: it took a moment for him to register that the sound was happening nearby and not inside the crystal.

"It sounds like the ghosts. All at once? What's happening to them?" Valen heard Cora speak, but he did not answer her.

As if caught in a cage, he felt compelled to watch the scene unfolding before his eyes, for many of the bodies were moving now. Shifting, groping blindly, half-crushed by their peers. As some of them stood up Valen saw the emptiness in their eyes, saw the flesh that had already begun to rot, and he remembered another time. He remembered fighting against an undead army in the Blood Wars: he had earned many of his scars during that long battle, for they were almost unstoppable. Something else, close yet elusive, tugged at his mind, but he brushed it away: he needed to see this, to know.

It was then that he saw another figure step into view, dwarfing the undead with his stature, and it was clear who their puppet-master was, for they bowed to him before straightening up, eyes glassy, ready for their command. As Valen looked upon the face of Mephistopheles, he heard the rush of blood in his ears, and suddenly there was nothing dividing the space between him and the archdevil save for the force of his hatred. Unthinking, he drew out Devil's Bane in one swift movement and smashed the crystal, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

He did not know how long he stood there among the broken shards, but he heard Cora's voice, speaking slowly and carefully. Looking up from the ground, he saw blood on her face.

She spoke once again. "Are you all right? Your eyes – they changed. Did it trigger memories?"

It was cooling within him, the rage. He breathed out. "Yes. No." Again, the sense of something elusive, something he couldn't touch, and a strange sense that he was not allowed to see it. "You cut yourself," he blurted out. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, this?" She wiped the back of her glove over her cheek. "A few bits went flying, and I wasn't prepared, but it's only a splinter. I'm more concerned about you."

"Don't be," he said roughly. "It passed swiftly. You're safe."

"I didn't mean..."

"She's worried about _you_, ya daft bugger," said the halfling. "Not whether you're about to beat us all up."

"You saw something that affected you," said Cora. "That place was Lith My'athar, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "It's Mephistopheles. He's raising an army from the dead."

"You're sure?"

"As certain as I can be. I saw them come to life – or a twisted semblance of it. I saw _him._ I've seen this happen before, once or twice, when I was a slave."

"Why would he do that?" she asked. "Stupid question, I know. He's not about to tell us."

"No, he won't... although this viewing crystal may have been left here as a way to taunt us. Devils like to play games with the minds of those they entrap." He bent down, picking up one of the bigger shards. As flat and glassy as a chip of ice, he could only see his palm through it, and too late, he realised his mistake. "I've been a fool: I should have stayed my hand. I don't know what's going on or whether the Seer's still alive, and now I have no means to find out."

0-0-0

Not long after she woke up, and opened her eyes, Elista guessed that the creature who stood before her had been calling to her. _Beyond death itself. _Before she came here, she had felt like a swimmer caught in a dangerous current. When she heard a cool, unfamiliar voice, offering her a lifeline, a way back to the shore, she had grabbed it as desperately as anyone might. Now, seeing the being's skeletal face and the bat-like wings rising up beyond his shoulders, she wondered if she had been tricked, but she said nothing yet, taking time to collect her thoughts.

Instinctively, she reached out with her mind towards the robed man, allowing the boundaries between herself and him to blur a little, just for long enough that she might pick up impressions of his thoughts and feelings. She concentrated, _Curious. Nothing's happening at all. I do hope I'm not having an off-day. _After one more try, she gave up. She would have to fish for information by the more conventional route of polite conversation.

Not wanting to feel at a disadvantage, the mage readied herself to stand up. Usually, she would have felt her arthritic knees protest at the sudden motion, yet today she rose in one smooth movement. Stretching her fingers, she realised that they too were free of their customary aches. _It seems like death did me some good.__ How strange._

The being waited in silence, apparently possessed of great patience, and Elista finally spoke to him. "I am truly alive, am I not?"

His head inclined towards her. "I restored you to life and health."

_Then it's true. I escaped!_ She beamed at her mysterious benefactor. "I must say, I wasn't expecting this at all, and I pride myself on my insights into the future. You have my heartfelt thanks." _Steady on. Chances are there's a price to pay. Best to know what it is._ "Would it seem too ungrateful if I asked why you rescued me?" _ Whatever he asks of me, it can't be any worse than an eternity in Cania. _

"I believe that you know a woman with the given name of Cora," he answered. "When I sensed your soul drifting, fighting against your fate, I sensed that your fate was somehow linked with hers."

She wondered where this was heading. "We met a while ago, before her death." _Such a waste, and all to no avail. _ "How do you know Cora?" _Surely he's not her father. No family resemblance whatsoever._

"I brought her back to life, recently."

"You did? I'm glad to hear that. She didn't deserve-" she hesitated, realising that it might be best not to divulge too much about her own role in Cora's demise yet. "Even with her dangerous choice of profession, it seemed unfair that she died so young. I must thank you again."

"I had no choice. I was ordered to resurrect her, so no gratitude is due."

A creeping sense of unease uncoiled within her. _Will he want me to kill her? Is that the price he wants to levy for my freedom? _"How did that happen?"

"The archdevil Mephistopheles used my True Name against me, but that was not all that he asked of me."

She took a sharp intake of breath. _His hand is in everything that touches me. _"Go... go on. Please. Tell me what else he's done to you."

"He made me close the planar gates here. It is an act that goes against my very nature, for I have controlled those gates for as long as I recall existing. Now only one doorway lies open, the only one he would allow." With a sweep of his robed sleeve, he gestured towards the end of the room.

Elista found that she was trembling, or shivering: she did not know which of the two it was, for the air held a pervasive chill. She could guess where that doorway led. _Fool that I was, to think I could escape. The only real difference is that I'll die again in Cania, knowing exactly what my spirit will have to suffer._

The being smiled for the first time, and if his expression seemed a little sly, it was not overly malicious. "When I brought Cora back to life, I realised that Mephistopheles had not thought to stop me from resurrecting any of her friends. They have every reason to find a way to help me to open the gates, and united, they have more chance of surviving long enough to succeed." He looked again to the only functioning doorway before glancing back at her. "You look frail, but none of Cora's other companions have as much command over magic. Your talents are sure to be useful to them. Cora cannot have travelled far from here yet, if you go out in search of her. "

_He thinks we're friends, that she'll see me and welcome me with open arms. He can't possibly know the whole truth. _Even as she had the thought, a tiny spark of hope lit within her.

_Cora knows even less._


	32. Chapter 32 Old Acquaintances

_It's been an age since I updated. I didn't know if I was going to continue at all, but I have and more is to on its way. I could have made this chapter longer but felt the end was a good break point. Your comments are welcome and appreciated. Thanks for reading._

**Chapter 32 – Old Acquaintances**

Almost as the party reached the inn, they encountered a lone scarred wreck of a man, whom Tomi asked about the Sleeping Man. "Why would I know about some bastard from Elysium who's got no place in the Hells?" retorted the man angrily, but he had unwittingly answered the third of the fivefold mysteries and they went on, into the inn.

After a brief respite, they were out in the cold again, heading back towards the Gatehouse and the Reaper - for want of any better approach. They soon regretted the decision. The snow fell harder, and they had nowhere to go but onwards. Their sight became more and more occluded by the snow. The chance of finding any more clues seemed less than ever, until out the corner of her eye, Cora noticed a spot of greyness that resolved itself into a cavern they had nearly missed. The outcropping of rock formed a natural doorway, part-obscured by thick, long stalactites of ice.

"Deekin thinks that the icicles looks like teeth. Yous thinks that if we go inside, it gobbles us up?"

"Here, nothing would surprise me," said Cora, but she ventured closer. With the snowfall gaining momentum, and the wind ever sharp, it was tempting to take shelter, even for a short while.

As she broached the idea to her companions, they readily agreed. Valen's flail smashed through the icy obstruction, and they walked into the gloomy interior. As they entered, grateful for the slight improvement in temperature, Deekin cast a light spell. They found themselves on a ledge, looking down to a large area with just one presence: the ghostly figure of a woman, her lithe form covered by a layer of frost. For a moment, Cora thought she heard the sound of weeping. "Another lost soul," she said.

"I'm beginning to think they are more numerous than the devils themselves," said Valen. Suddenly he crouched down, brushing snow away from a stringy-leaved plant. "Velox nettles," he explained, in answer to her curious glance. "Do you remember seeing a woman harvesting them earlier?"

"Good to eat?" Cora asked as Valen snapped off the sprig of berries at its centre.

He grimaced. "Hardly, unless you like getting your throat burned. The berries are a source of heat: we can use them to build fires."

"Won't a fire spell work?"

Valen shook his head. "Not here. It will go out as soon as it's lit," he said.

"But berries will do the trick instead? What a strange place this is."

"We needed these after our battles in Cania, when we were waiting for a portal to take us back to the Abyss." For a moment, his expression was far away. "Never mind all that. I just wanted to tell you we should pick these, when we find them. Just in case."

"Good idea." Looking downward, Cora could see Tomi and Deekin walking ahead of them, towards the ghost. "Valen... I wanted to ask how you were feeling. What you saw earlier in the crystal must have worried you."

"It did. Yet I know we have more immediate concerns. I can't be certain that the Seer's come to any harm."

"I'm sure she's safe," said Cora. "She has the Mirror of All-Seeing, and a Goddess looking out for her. Maybe she wasn't there at all when Mephistopheles arrived."

"It's possible. It seemed strange that the corpses hadn't been disposed of." He fell silent for a moment, looking thoughtful, then roused himself. "We should see what the others are up to, but thank you."

"What for?"

"For thinking of the Seer - and of me." He planted a kiss on Cora's forehead, just briefly, before he walked away: although his lips felt cold, the gesture warmed her.

Together, they walked downhill to rejoin their companions. Tomi and Deekin were standing near to the ghostly woman, gazing up at her like visitors to a monumental statue.

"She's sinking, isn't she?" Cora observed. From what she could tell through the rime of frost, the woman must have been beautiful when alive, with her delicate features suggesting elven ancestry. Clad in ghostly armour, the translucent outline of a bastard sword was clasped in her right hand.

"It's Lady Aribeth," said Tomi, his expression uncharacteristically glum. "I thought I was imagining things, until I walked right up to her."

Cora recognised the name. The events in Neverwinter had taken place at a similar time to her previous adventures, but she heard the tale after she returned home. Not only was it a story that inspired bards, but the reports about false Helmites had caused great concern at her local temple.

"She's not as tall as I thought she'd be," Cora said. "but I guess that happens with everyone who makes a name for themselves. Wait – you actually _knew_ her?"

"I did a few jobs for her, helping to sort out bloody Lord Nasher's troubles. That was before everything went downhill. Can't believe she ended up here, though. You'd think getting executed was punishment enough for the lass." Tomi looked down at the ground, where ashen marks indicated a long-dead fire. "She's not too far gone," he said, circling around her. "It looks like she's having a kip, more than anything else. D'ya think we could revive her, if we made a fire to warm her up?"

_It won't make her any less dead, _Cora thought, but she could tell it mattered to Tomi, in spite of his casual manner.

Valen stepped forward, and quickly crushed one of the Velox berries between finger and thumb before dropping it on the ground: a small flame flickered, then grew. Even with this small flame, the heat was like a forgotten luxury from a far-away place – but it soon became apparent that it was insufficient to thaw the ice surrounding Aribeth. Valen threw on a second berry, and when even that made no impact on her frozen form, a third was added. At last the frost began to thaw, dripping in rivulets like a melting candle.

Ethereal eyelashes flickered, and what could have been ice, or a tear, coursed down Aribeth's cheek before her eyes opened.

Cora wasn't prepared for what happened next.

With a cry of inarticulate rage, Aribeth hit out blindly. See-through or not, her sword still crashed against Cora's armour, the impact hard enough to make her stumble backwards. Before she could right herself, Valen was there. With a snarl he drew out Devil's Bane, swinging the spikes: even though they passed through Aribeth's form, she let out an agonised gasp before hitting back.

Cora dived in with Enserric, seeking an opening: Aribeth was skilled with blocking as well as attack, but she was distracted by Valen and the crossbow bolts which were passing regularly through her head. She soon began to falter. Just as Cora was about to press her advantage, Aribeth threw down her sword.

"Enough!"

"Tired so soon?" Valen said. "It would have been better not to attack us in the first place."

Tomi stepped around from behind Aribeth: he had joined in the fight too. "Didn't ya recognise me? It's Tomi, remember? Grin to my mates, Tomi Grin to the ladies, and probably 'that bloody halfling' to you."

Aribeth looked down at him for a moment. "Yes... I remember you now. You remind me of Neverwinter, and of everything else about that place that I've been trying to forget. You fool, didn't you realise that I _wanted _to sink into the ice? Now I don't know how long it will take me to return to that condition."

"And how was I to know that?" protested Tomi. "Sorry love, but I'm a rogue, not a mindreader."

"Then you should never have interfered."

_Arrogant, self-pitying shrew_, thought Cora. _You could have pretended you were grateful, for his sake. _"Tomi was trying to help," she said flatly. "We all were."

"Then leave! The only way I can ever find peace is to become one of the Lost, and slowly sink into this ice until my memories become part of this bitter plane. _You_ interrupted that process," she added pointedly.

"So ya turned up here after getting executed, and since then you've been moping around in this cave?" asked Tomi.

"No. At first I fought against my fate. I wished to fight Mephistopheles himself, but I knew that alone I would not succeed. Oh, I had such grand ideas, wishing to unite the ghosts and storm the very gates of Cania!"

"The ghosts mentioned you, although they didn't know your name. What happened?" asked Cora.

"Mephistopheles agreed to speak with me. Naturally I distrusted him, yet I found that his words made sense. I saw myself more clearly than I had ever done before, and I lost the will to fight."

"This sounds similar to what happened to me, with the Seer," murmured Valen to Cora. "Except that the archdevil held up a distorting mirror, exaggerating the worst, no doubt." Aloud, Valen spoke again to Aribeth. "You would place your trust in an archdevil, possibly the most deceitful creature in existence?"

"Devils are creatures of law, even if their laws are constructed to suit their own ambitions. Still, it doesn't matter what he is: my sins are real enough. When I began my long fall from grace, I was grieving for a man called Fenthick. He was executed for trusting someone who misled him. I sought to avenge him. I did it all for my love, so I said to myself." Aribeth closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them. "My reasons were not as pure as I thought. I told myself that I loved him, when all we shared was passion."

"Passion won't make you evil," said Cora. "Not in itself."

"I abandoned my city and united with the enemy after Fenthick died. In my bitterness I even turned my back on Tyr. and all the while I lied to myself about why I was doing it."

"Yeah, but what about the nightmares you kept having?" interjected Tomi. "Elden told me about them, once. He even wondered if you were under some kind of spell. Are you sure they weren't driving you around the bend?"

"Nightmares...?" Her long slender fingers clutched at her brow. "Strange. I had forgotten about those. But Elden!" Aribeth breathed out the name like a sigh. "If my heart belonged to Fenthick, then tell me this. Why did I desire another man?"

"Blimey," said Tomi. "You should've told me, if you fancied me that much."

"This is not a subject for one of your jests. You know full well who I mean." Aribeth looked around at the others. "Very well, then, tell me. Why did I delude myself?"

"I wasn't there at the time, but I can imagine," said Cora. "Was Fenthick your first love?"

"He was, but I fail to see the relevance."

"It's this. People idealise their first loves, don't they? You didn't see him as he really was, and he was weaker than you hoped, in the end. If you sincerely believed you loved him, isn't that enough? You were still acting from the heart."

Cora realised Valen was watching her intently: he was the next to speak to Aribeth.

"Do you really think that it's impossible to ever love again, after losing someone? Given enough time-"

"Time? Fenthick's body was barely cold in his traitor's grave when I desired another! And now, I see that my true motive was my own towering pride. I was seen as a paragon of virtue, before Fenthick was disgraced: his mistake made me look like a deluded fool. Don't you see why I welcomed this slow descent into ice, embracing it? Better to be numb with cold than to realise what I have become, and how much I have lost."

"I dunno," Tomi said, "you're not the lass I remember. Somethin's missing. You always cared about this cause or that one, and even if I wasn't too fussed about anything but getting paid, I still thought it was sort of inspirin', the way you carried on." He shoved his hands a little deeper into his pockets, kicking at a chunk of ice. "I mean, for the folks who like that kind of thing."

"No, little rogue, I'm not the Aribeth you once knew," she said, her voice thick with despair. "She had passion and faith, but once they left her, nothing was left but the empty shell of her body. Now even that is gone." She gestured down at her ghostly form.

Cora watched her, thinking hard, then spoke her thoughts aloud. "I've learned that even if all is lost, that only means there's something to find again. I think you just need to find the right place to start. Why don't you pray to Tyr and ask for forgiveness? You never know what might happen."

Sharp, bitter laughter echoed around the cave. "Am I really hearing religious advice from a tiefling?"

Cora had been starting to pity the fallen paladin: now, all she felt was exasperation. "Sneer all you like, but I'm not as ignorant of your ways as you are of mine. I understand all about faith, regardless of who sired me." Remembering her own failed vocation, Cora's voice grew a little rougher, tinged with an old bitterness she had thought was long buried. "I'll bet Tyr's favour came so easily to you, didn't it? It's probably why you're too proud to pray. You were so fortunate, once in your life, and I doubt you fully appreciated what you had."

She saw the anger spark within Aribeth once more: it seemed to be the only emotion she could rouse within herself. "Fortunate? You know _nothing. _To feel yourself falling into madness, losing your faith... would you feel so blessed then?" Her voice lowered. "In truth I don't know whether Tyr abandoned me, or whether I was too weak in my faith. Either way, it is too late now."

"Try anyway," said Cora. "You have nothing left to lose."

"With that last point only, I agree with you," said Aribeth, her voice weary. She closed her eyes. "Leave me now. Let me be alone with my suffering."

Some stubborn part of Cora wanted to stay and argue with Aribeth, but as she looked sideways, she saw Tomi shake his head almost imperceptibly. Following his cue, she nodded to the others. "Let's go."

Deekin was taking longer than usual to pack away his journal. Just as Cora was about to help him out, she saw him sidle up to Aribeth once more.

"Umm, Deekin has a question for fallen paladin lady?"

"I've talked enough." Aribeth had dropped down by the dying remains of the fire, hugging her knees to her chest. Her voice was dull, as if the mere act of speech exhausted her.

"Deekin only wants to ask one small question, and it not be about yous or anyone else in Neverwinter." He tilted his head, his round eyes appealing, and the fallen paladin sighed.

"One question only, and whether I can answer it or not, you must leave afterwards."

"Deekin keeps his promise. While you be here in Cania, did yous hear anything about the Sleeping Man?"

0-0-0

"I'm sorry about what happened," Cora said to Tomi, as they walked back into the inn. "It must be hard seeing a friend brought that low."

"Don't worry, " said the halfling, "She was more my boss than my mate, and after a drink or three, I'll be right as rain. It was a bit of a shock seeing her, that's all. She doesn't seem to know her own mind any more, but then I reckon she's lost it more often than a courtesan drops her knickers. Elden would have been all cut up to see her like that, but since he's not here, no harm done."

Cora thought Tomi sounded almost too chirpy: she understood too well his need to put on a brave face. "Elden was the hero of Neverwinter, wasn't he?"

"Yep. Mind you, I ended up doing near as much as him, since he kept asking me for help, and no-one calls poor old Tomi a hero, do they? When Aribeth was all set to fight us, it was El who sweet-talked her into giving herself up. Nasher wasn't going to pardon her, not after making an example of Fenthick for less. I'm sure Elden expected that, but he took it hard all the same. When it was over, he left Neverwinter for good, saying that he was never gonna play the hero again."

"I can't blame him for that," Cora said. _Unlike me, he must have kept his word._

"Nah. Let's face it, everyone who does this lark is a bit soft in the head... unless they're in it for the treasure, of course." He winked.

It was at that point that Cora decided he was truly back to normal. "Thanks so much," she said. "I'll try my best to cultivate a more mercenary streak in future, for my sanity's sake."

Turning her attention to the others, she heard Valen say, "Oh look, we really are in the Hells. A mime."

Following his gaze, she saw a man with a shock of white hair crowned with battered-looking horns, clad in a garish scarlet and purple outfit. He stood with his chest puffed out, one hand resting on jutting hips, and the other splayed on the nearby table. He appeared to be mimicking one of the erinyes nearby: when she turned suspicious red eyes upon him, he swiftly corrected his posture. Picking up a pack of cards off the nearby table, he began shuffling them, although his showy style was more akin to juggling.

"That be your dad, maybes?" Deekin asked Valen.

Valen snorted. "Hardly. He was a cambion, and I'd guess he was far more imposing."

The mime was the first tiefling Cora had ever seen since Valen, and she couldn't help compare them. She noticed that the man lacked any tail, but he had leathery wings extending out from his shoulder blades. "We've got to go and talk to him," she said. "Come on."

"Don't expect a warm welcome from a tiefling," cautioned Valen. "He probably can't be trusted."

"Oh?" said Cora.

"You're not quite like any tiefling I've met before, my lady. Besides, he's almost certainly Baatezu."

"Don't worry. I never expect too much from humans either," she said, mollified. She couldn't help wondering what this stranger was like, and whether she would recognise common ground between them.

The older man greeted them with a smile, putting down his cards with one last flourish. "Arden Swift at your service."

_Friendly, at least. That makes a change around here. _ "I'm Cora. It's good to see a fellow tiefling," she began.

"Well now, you look almost surprised, but there's probably more people around with fiendish blood than not. You don't see many around with angelic blood, and do you know why that is?"

She glanced at Valen, wondering if he knew.

"Angels don't tend to get around as much," he said drily. "So they say."

"You were supposed to laugh at that, but with your man's delivery, I'm not surprised you didn't," said Arden. Under his breath, he added "Amateur."

Seeing Valen narrow his eyes at the other man, Cora spoke up. "Actually, I have a question for you."

"If you're after getting an answer, I might need a little trade. To liven things up a little."

"Coin?"

"Or a game. Or nothing at all, if I'm in a good mood. I'll see what your question is, first."

"I was going to ask you about the Sleeping Man," she said.

"That big green blob of dullness? Not much of a talker, is he now?"

"Yous talked to him?" asked Deekin.

Arden gave him a disgusted glance. "My material's wasted on the lot of you. He's sleeping, berk. You won't be hearing any chant from him, although I had some plans to change that."

"Plans? What do you mean by that?"

Cora saw a glint in the other man's eye. One bushy white eyebrow raised, slowly. "Maybe the answer's lying in the pocket of me pantaloons."

Valen glared at him. "Meaning?"

Arden held his stare for just a moment longer than was wise. "Not what you're thinking, that's for sure." Slipping his hand in his pocket, he brought out a tiny trumpet. "Looks like a toy for a brat, nothing more, doesn't it now? But you'd be wrong."

Arden held up the bell end in front of Cora's eyes, and she saw a swirling mass inside which gave her a faint yet familiar sense of vertigo. "It looks like a portal, but it's tiny."

"Size isn't everything. It's what you do with it." His eyebrow jerked upwards again. "It's connected to the Plane of Pandemonium. Can you imagine what a place like that even _sounds_ like?"

"Ooo! That sounds good for kobold music," said Deekin.

Arden tucked away the instrument once more. "Good for all sorts of fun, unless your name is Dharvana. She and all the rest of the pouting pilgrims, not one of them are good for a laugh. All I wanted to do was liven up that dreary temple with a tune or two, but the sensei took it badly." Absently, he rubbed at a fresh-looking chip on one of his horns. "Even if I knew every last line of her addle-coved religion, she wouldn't let me through the door."

"Then you know some of the mysteries?" asked Cora.

"Sure I do. For a start, I know that the Sleeping Man was seeking out the Knower of Places. Why he's so fascinating to the sensei is anyone's guess, but when you've no sense of humour, you have to get by any way you can with entertaining yourself. Now, though, you've asked one too many question for free. Anything else is for trade."

The novelty of meeting another tiefling was starting to dim. Cora was only too aware that any further information was likely to prove costly. "Perhaps another time," she answered, turning to walk away.

As soon as she was out of listening distance, she spoke to the others. "We've finally done it. I think we've learned all of the answers we needed to gain entrance to the temple. Are we all set to head out again?"

"I'll give it a miss," said Tomi. "The sensei's bound to chuck me out as soon as she claps eyes on me, and I don't fancy waiting outside in the cold."

Cora wondered if Aribeth's situation was still weighing on his mind, although he looked cheerful enough. "All right, stay here until we get back... and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Tomi grinned. "With the risks you take half the time, I think I've still got plenty left to do, eh?"

0-0-0

After all of the trouble they had gone to, the recitation of the Fivefold Mysteries seemed anti-climactic. No ceremony, no fanfare: the sensei simply posed her five questions, and they answered them in turn.

"This is more than I could have ever expected, getting three pilgrims in one day," said the sensei. "Perhaps this marks a change, when the Sleeping Man will come to be more widely understood."

"Three?" asked Cora, puzzled. "There's only two of us here." She had left a somewhat reluctant Deekin back in the inn with Tomi, thinking that the halfling might need company.

"Another visitor came here earlier. In truth, I had misgivings about granting her entry. I had the impression that she could read the thoughts of others, and it's possible she gleaned the answers to the Mysteries almost instantaneously. Still, it was by that very method that I came to understand the nature of the Sleeping Man." She looked towards the doorway to the sanctuary, her amber eyes betraying a faint anxiety. "She's still there now. Perhaps I should go and see whether all is well..."

"Since we're going in, we can check for you," said Cora hastily. She didn't want anything to delay their encounter with the Sleeping Man, after all the trouble they had gone to get this far.

"Very well. I only ask that you are as quiet as possible inside the room. It is a place for silent communion: if you must converse, keep it muted."

"Would he wake so easily?" asked Valen.

"Few things in the multiverse could wake the Sleeping Man, but he deserves our respect. Before you go, I have something to give you, but first I must ask you to disarm yourselves."

"If you distrust us, then why let us in?"asked Valen.

_Don't give her any more excuses to shut us out_, thought Cora, as she shot him a warning look.

"This is a place of sanctuary. No weapons are necessary," said Dharvana, her voice calmly implacable.

Looking reluctant, Valen handed over Devil's Bane: Cora did the same with Enserric.

Walking towards a cabinet the sensei unlocked it: after placing the weapons inside, she brought out a bejewelled amulet. "I only have one of these left for you to wear. If you have sufficient wisdom, you may see into his dreams: this amulet will help your mind to focus."

Cora took the amulet, trying it on: when she fumbled the catch, Valen stood behind her, drawing her thick curls aside before fastening for her. She shivered slightly, as his fingertips brushed against her neck.

"Cold hands?" he asked.

"No. Surprisingly warm," she said, glancing at him briefly, a half-smile on her face.

As they walked through the unlocked doorway, she felt curiously light of heart. "I thought we'd never pass through that door. Don't you feel that we're getting away with something we shouldn't be doing?"

"It all depends what we're going to do in there, doesn't it?"

Their footsteps echoed in the narrow hallway: up ahead, ornate railings separated them from the room at the end of the hall. _Like a prison-cell door, only prettier – but at least it appears to be unlocked._

Cora was the first to open the door, walking into the room: she stopped dead at the sight before her. In the centre of the room on a circular dais lay the planetar, his well-muscled form entirely naked, cushioned by his own feathered wings. Such an exotic being would have commanded all of Cora's attention, were it not for the woman sat beside him. Her lined face was framed with an embroidered bonnet, her slight frame swaddled in something that looked akin to a funeral shroud.

_Here? No. I must be seeing things._

She felt a firm, steadying hand on her shoulder: Valen was behind her, craning to look. "What is it, Cora?"

Before she could answer, the old woman looked upwards: Cora saw an initial look of apprehension swiftly mask itself, transforming into a welcoming smile.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Madame Elista.


	33. Chapter 33 Hope

**Chapter 33 - Hope**

As the couple walked in, Elista could have sworn that the temperature suddenly dropped a few degrees. Cora stared at her coolly, but her companion was the first one to break the silence. "It seems that you know one another."

"You could say that," Cora answered. Elista would have expected the girl to be surprised by her presence, but she also sensed something else. _Suspicion? She feels more closed off from me than she was in the past. _

"I don't believe that we've been introduced," she said to the red haired tiefling. _He's even more imposing than he was in my visions. _"My name is Elista."

"Valen," he said, giving her a curt nod.

"She's a fortune-teller," said Cora tersely. "We met before I went to Waterdeep."

"Didn't you tell me about her once?" Valen asked, frowning slightly.

The pair of them stood and talked about her as if she was not there. If she was on more familiar territory, she would have given Cora a lecture about minding her manners, but Elista was not feeling at all secure.

"She was the one who told me that I'd travel to the Underdark," said Cora. "I also saw her in my dreams, a couple of times."

"I remember you mentioning her, but not all of the details." Valen took Cora by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "It's important, isn't it? Tell me what she said to you. In the dreams."

_Such intensity could be dangerous, _thought Elista_. Yet she trusts him completely._

_She certainly doesn't trust _me_, right now._

"I need to ask her about it, first." Cora turned on her feet, slowly, and as he let her go, she faced Elista.

"You told me to trust Mephistopheles." There was a tremor in Cora's voice, betraying some deep emotion, although her expression gave nothing away.

"And why would you do that, I wonder?" asked Valen, his voice all cold distrust.

Elista tried to make light of it, as she spoke to the girl. "If you're wanting a refund, I should say that I don't normally give them. The fates can be capricious, my dear, and even soothsayers make errors of judgement at times."

"I'm not your _dear_," snapped Cora, "and your so-called errors were catastrophic."

The girl's resentment was palpable: Elista did not know its full extent, but she knew she had to defuse it, and fast. _Shield myself? No, that'll only provoke them, and they're too near. Best keep talking, and keep the spells as a last resort. _

"I wouldn't deny that I made mistakes," she said, "but when we first met, you were unfulfilled, out of work and recovering from a broken heart. I'm sure you would have left town on some kind of dangerous new adventure sooner or later, and it hasn't been all bad, has it? You became a heroine among the drow rebels, and your heart seems to be mending rather nicely." She nodded in the direction of Valen, and she saw the girl flush hotly in response to her gesture.

"Don't you know what happened? I _died!_"

"I know... and I'm genuinely sorry. In fact, when I found out, the shock killed me. The Reaper brought me to life here, because he wants me to help you." _Right now it seems like a terrible idea, but I've got to calm things down somehow._

"I don't believe you."

"Then ask him. I may be a weak old woman, but I know more magic than you could ever learn, and I can read people. Did you come here to glean the Sleeping Man's secrets? Maybe I could help you with that."

"Oh? And what would the price be? What would you forget to mention _this_ time around?"

"This is not a place for raised voices!" The voice that interrupted them was not exactly quiet either, as Sensei Dharvana bustled through the doorway.

"This is my fault," said Elista hastily. "It seems I have caused offence."

"You're telling me," muttered Cora.

"I can feel the bitterness and anger in this room," said Dharvana. "It pollutes the atmosphere."

Elista took her chance, whilst she had the Sensei's attention. "Please accept my apology. I can assure you that none of us intended to act in such a disrespectful manner, but our conversation became a little heated. Once I go, there will be no more conflict. The other pilgrims haven't had the chance to commune with the Sleeping Man yet, so it's best that I leave now."

Without further ado, she made her escape.

0-0-0

For a moment, Cora did not know whether to stay or to pursue the wily old woman.

"Will you promise to be calm and quiet, respecting the rules of this place?" asked Dharvana. "Will you mean it, this time, or must I ask you to leave?"

Momentarily, Cora was tempted to tell her to stuff it. _But look at all the trouble we had, getting here in the first place. What other options do we have, right now? _She took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm fine. We'll just sit down here and commune for a while. Like we intended."

Although the Sensei looked somewhat sceptical, she nodded and left them alone.

Valen watched her, a faint frown apparent on his face. "There's more to this situation than meets the eye, isn't there?"

"Yes, there is, although I don't know the full extent of it." She sighed, and looked down at the prone body of the Sleeping Man, wondering how anyone could radiate such inner calm. "I still have some questions for Elista, although I doubt I'd get a straight answer."

"Do you want me to go out and find her?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. We'd better take this opportunity with the Sleeping Man, before Dharvana changes her mind." She sat herself down on the edge of the dais, quickly readjusting her posture when she inadvertently trapped her tail. Valen quickly followed suit, settling down next to her.

0-0-0

Valen did not know how long they sat there, side by side: his mind drifted in many directions in spite of his attempts to guide it back to the Sleeping Man. The Seer had tried to teach him how to meditate long ago, as a way to contain his fury: her efforts had been a partial success, but he could never fully quell an awareness of his taint and its eddying, poisonous current within him.

_Your taint is part of you, just as the corruption of my past is part of me, _the Seer once told him_. We acknowledge it, but we will not let it drag us into the morass. We float on the surface, and we do not drown._

_It pulls at me, always. It would take next to nothing, to lose all that I have gained._

She had had taken a long time before answering: he knew she understood he wasn't just being pessimistic, that his misgivings were realistic.

_I know what will help you_, she said at last. _Love. _

At first her answer confused him, followed by a vague, sinking sense of disappointment. His feelings for the priestess were an intense tangle he did not fully understand, but he did not see her as a potential lover.

_Let me explain. I don't think it's ever been said that humans are incapable of love. Yet it's said about demons all the time, is it not? It's no coincidence that you fell in love with Imogen after you uncovered your buried humanity. _

_She's not coming back, _he said, blunt words masking old grief_._

_No. Yet one day you will find love again, when you least expect it. She will help you become more human, and you will aid her in return._

He told the Seer that he did not believe one word of it, and she never raised the subject again.

_Or did she? _Looking back, it was not the only hint the Seer made, but none were enough for his sceptical mind: any proof lay within himself, in memories as sharp as shattered crystal.

He had died fighting a creature he detested, but he had also done it in Cora's name, knowing that she would never have stopped trying, even when all hope was lost. _Yet she had a second chance, however slim, and she called me back to join her. _He remembered how vulnerable she looked when he first woke up, and the unfamiliar rush of tenderness he had felt when she embraced him.

_I never told her how much it meant to me. _ Since finding out where he was, he had withdrawn into himself, to the place where he raged against the prison of his self-control. _Yet always, she's been trying to draw me out, to help me when she could – and there's a part of me that responds to it, that longs for something called love. _

He became aware of the hard stone underneath him, and the relative softness of Cora's thigh pressing against his own. Opening his eyes, he looked around at the Sleeping Man, then back at Cora once more.

Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed: she could have been sleeping if it were not for her straight posture. _Are you able to go deeper, and touch the planetar's mind? _ If anyone could understand the Sleeping Man, perhaps she could: had she not waited years for a love which had proven as insubstantial as a dream?

He saw her eyes open: slowly, they focused on him. "I swear that I could feel your eyes upon me."

A faint smile played across her lips, and she did not avert her own gaze.

"Psychic?"

"Who, me? I wish." He saw the way her eyes flicked downward at the same time as the corners of her mouth, and he guessed she was thinking of the mage again. "I've not gained very much here, save for a sore backside from sitting for too long. The Sleeping Man's secrets remain closed to me."

"Then we'll have to try another tactic," he said, as Cora rose to her feet. Learning over, he spoke into the planetar's ear: when that did not work he tried again, as loud as he could manage without drawing the annoying Sensei's attention. A light shake of the shoulders came next, then a rough one: the man's eyes remained shut. Valen was beginning to suspect that the planetar was aware of his efforts, and only remained asleep because he would not deign to wake for a tiefling. He felt the insidious temptation to go further, wound the man and spill that perfect, celestial blood to see if pain would wake him. _But that wouldn't be my only reason, would it? I'd be giving in to my urges. Allowing myself to be less human._

"It's not working, is it?" said Cora. "Maybe we should give it a rest, and bring back Deekin later. He might come up with something we haven't considered."

Her faith in the kobold's powers never ceased to surprise him – or amuse him. "You have a point, he said, keeping his face entirely straight. "The Doom song could wake even the dead."

0-0-0

Cora left the sanctuary ahead of Valen. As she walked along the narrow corridor, she felt his touch upon her arm.

"Cora... wait." As she turned to face him, Valen added "There's something I wish to say to you, while I have the chance: it's so rare that we're alone."

"That's certainly true." _Usually it's Deekin tapping me on the arm, at precisely the wrong moment. _"Nothing's wrong, I hope? Apart from the obvious, that is." She waved a vague hand at her surroundings, the gesture meaning this too-silent shrine, the City of the Lost and Cania itself: all layers of entrapment, keeping them from where they wanted to go.

"No. Nothing's wrong... apart from the obvious, as you say. Even so, I find it easier while you're here with me."

"I could say the same of you," she said smiling at him.

She thought that might be all he had to say, a friendly word and nothing more, but he spoke again. "I have been thinking about the Sleeping Man, and of what you share in common with him."

She was mystified by his comment. "Me? He reminds me more of Lavoera. Besides, I've always been a light sleeper. It's saved my skin countless times."

"I wasn't thinking of that at all," he said, his expression betraying both mild frustration and amusement. "Will you hear me out?"

"Go on. I'll shut up now," she said. Just as he opened his mouth, she spoke again. "I promise."

"I meant that you had dreams, and you held fast to them. You wished to become a paladin: even when it was clear that it wasn't possible, you still took up the sword and fought for what you believed in. You also had a romantic dream, since you waited for your squire for many years."

"Too many," she said quickly.

"Maybe. It says something about you, though."

_It was so easy to tell myself I loved Patrick: he was sweet and charming, and above all, safe. Strange that it mattered so much, when I thought nothing of taking risks elsewhere. _

"Sometimes it doesn't pay to hold on to any dream too tightly," she murmured, half to herself.

"Some are more important than others, that's true. If I had never aspired to regain my humanity, nothing would have changed for me. The Seer helped me in every way she could, yet I still needed to hold that dream fast within me, or she could have done nothing." He paused. "Cora... there is something I wish to know about you. I haven't been able to ask you this, before now."

"Ask me anything you like," she said, curious now: he seemed oddly apprehensive, although he didn't look unhappy.

"We are friends now: I think it's fair to say that we are something more than that. It's clear that you care about my fate, but what I wish to know is this... does it go deeper still? Do you love me?"

Whatever she was expecting him to say, it wasn't that. _He wouldn't ask out of idle curiosity. It's not his way. _

Valen started talking before her mouth managed to form an answer. "I should not have rushed you: I spoke too soon. After all, how long have we known one another?"

Already he sounded regretful, and Cora knew that if she said nothing, he would tell her it was time to move on and his face would take on the stoic, closed look she had seen him wear far too often in the past. She needed to speak, to voice the words that had been held inside her like a secret.

"It's long enough!" she said, the words tumbling out now. "Do you remember one time when we were arguing, and I was trying to tell you that I trusted you, because we'd fought and spilled our blood, side by side?"

He made the smallest nod. "I remember." He took one step closer, almost near enough to touch, his eyes searching hers.

"It's exactly the same with this," she said. "I don't need years: I don't even need months of courtship from you. With all that we've been through, I know my own mind – and my heart. I've been sure ever since I woke up in the Realm of the Reaper, but I couldn't find the courage to tell you... I love you, Valen."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, snugly enough that his cheek rested against her own. Although she couldn't see his expression, she could feel the heat emanating from his body, a comfort in itself. She felt his lips kissing the side of her face, her cheeks: blindly searching out her mouth, he kissed her deeply. Tilting her head, she welcomed his tongue as it nudged past her parted lips. Her eyes closed, she lost herself for a while in the kiss, in the warm circle of his arms.

He drew back slowly, still holding her around the waist as if he couldn't quite bear to let her go. "This is more than I could have hoped for," he said, smiling with a warmth and ease she had never seen before.

"You know how bleak my outlook can be: you also know how it was shaped. When we first met, and I was told you were our only hope, I reacted in the only way I knew. Much has changed since then. Even now, when I despair of escaping from this place, or from the bitter rage within me, I only have to look at you, and I remember." He inclined his face to hers. "You are my hope: you are my love."

0-0-0

"Umm, Tomi? We gots the room. Boss still not back?" Deekin had been sorting out their accommodation with the innkeeper, while Tomi indulged in a game of cards with Arden Swift.

"Nah. Not just yet." Tomi didn't look at Deekin as he spoke: instead he kept his attention focused on Swift's unoccupied hand and his brightly-decorated cuffs. Tomi knew a card sharp when he saw one, and he wasn't about to fall victim to the old switch trick. He also kept watch for any lapses in his adversary's attention span: he wasn't averse to balancing the game in his own favour either.

"That dour sensei must have let them see her prized pet after all," said Swift.

"Yep. Let's hope it does us some good, eh?"

"Unless they know exactly what to do, they don't stand a Tanarri's chance in Nessus of waking him up." Arden leaned forward conspiratorially while Tomi made sure to flatten his cards over his chest. "Doesn't seem as if either of them are too quick on the uptake, since they didn't get my hint."

_What's he on about?_ Instead of betraying his own inattentiveness, Tomi simply said "Oh, yeah, _that_ hint! I was surprised, too."

"You haven't a clue what I'm talking about, do you now?" Arden sighed as they both drew two more cards. "I meant my Trumpet of Pandemonium: no berk could ever sleep through that din."

"Dunno, it looked a bit tinny to me. Are you sure you weren't sold a knock-off?"

Swift scowled. "I could play it to prove my point, but your ears are so very small, I'm not sure you'd ever recover."

"Oh, shut up."

"Halflings be sensitive about their size," explained Deekin.

_Thanks mate, _thought Tomi_. Thanks a bunch._

Laying down his hand, Swift grimaced. "That's my lot. Not as good a hand as I'd hoped for."

Tomi knew hope had nothing to do with it, and that the tiefling was letting him win, for now._ Let 'em think they're a good player, then raise the stakes. _For his part, Tomi had every intention of playing along with the ruse before turning it around:he hadn't had a good game for a while.

A handful of coins were pushed across the table. "Well now," said Arden," you're not as dull a player as some of the other bubbers in here, but we're only just warming up. How about we make this game more exciting next time?"

It was then that Deekin suddenly ran off: Tomi knew without looking around that Cora must have arrived, and sure enough, she and Valen soon approached the table.

"You're playing cards with _him_?" said Valen, his tone of voice making it perfectly clear what he thought of the idea.

"I've gotta keep my hand in, haven't I?"

"Never mind that," said Deekin. "Boss, you promised to tell Deekin everything that happened when yous went to see the Sleeping Man."

Since they hadn't yet resumed their game, Tomi chanced a look at Cora. He guessed she had good news to share, because she looked more relaxed and cheerful than she had for a long time. More surprisingly, so did Valen.

"We managed to gain access to the Sleeping Man, but we couldn't figure out a way to wake him," said Cora.

"You sure there not be more to tell, Boss?" persisted Deekin. "You two looks like Tomi does when he finds a treasure chest. Yous look all glowy and pleased with youselves."

Cora muttered a rather convoluted explanation about the contrast between the cold outside and the warm air within the tavern. Valen cleared his throat, then said "We need to think about what to do next."

Arden leaned forward, joining in. "There I was, just telling your small friend here about the easiest way to wake the snoring celestial. You didn't think to take me up on it, last time we spoke." He patted his pocket.

"Oh, do you mean your trumpet? I suppose it might have _some_ use, though I'm a little doubtful." Even though she was quicker to guess Swift's meaning than Tomi had been, Cora was far worse at sounding non-committal. "I guess it can't do any harm to give it a try, if the price is right," she said, shrugging.

"Price?" Arden looked insulted. "You want me to just name a price and sell it? Where's the fun in that?" He eyed Tomi speculatively while scratching behind his left horn. "We were just having a little chat about raising the stakes in our little game, weren't we now? How about I hand over the trumpet if you win?"

_Sod that. I wanted to win a fat pile of gold, not some stinky old trumpet,_ thought Tomi, but as soon as he looked at Cora's face, he knew she was all for the idea. If he didn't agree, she'd only offer to play instead.

0-0-0

Aware of the faint but constant tension between the two tiefling men, Cora persuaded Valen to move with her to another table. She was also keen to have a little more time alone with him while she had the chance. It wasn't quite working as planned, since Valen kept glancing towards the card table across the room.

"We've got to trust him, you know."

"Swift?" he asked, incredulous.

"Tomi. He won't have any problems cheating at cards, if he needs to."

Valen made a grunt of assent. "I'm sure of that, but there's a part of me that doesn't want to waste time on this. I'd sooner loot the trumpet from Arden's corpse."

"He's got quite the obnoxious manner about him, hasn't he?"

"That's not my only reason," he admitted, "although it helps."

"I know." She took a sip of her drink. "Let's stop watching them, starting right now." It was easier for her, as her back was turned away from Arden's table: even so, she had taken a peek once or twice.

"Gladly," he said. Leaving his seat, he squeezed up on the bench next to her. "Cora, there's something I've been wondering about. You said that you'd tell me more of what happened with the old woman we met earlier."

"Elista? She was the one who told my fortune, before I left for Waterdeep. I suppose I might have gone anyway, but she had already fired up my imagination, so I didn't hesitate. As far as I knew, her involvement with me started and ended with my crossing her palm with a few coins."

"It wasn't the end, was it?" he said. "Or you wouldn't have been so tense when you met her."

"No. Maybe I should have been suspicious after I dreamed about her a couple of times. Like my dreams about the Valsharess, they felt too real and vivid to be coincidence. As if magic was involved." She paused. "The difference was that that she didn't come over as threatening: I assumed Madame Elista simply wanted to help a past client. Until..." She concentrated, trying to remember as best she could: it wasn't easy or comfortable, recalling those last few moments of life.

"Until...?"

"After I killed the Valsharess, I spoke with Mephistopheles. He killed her Red Sisters beforehand: otherwise I never would have stood a chance. Because of that, I assumed I was out of danger, until he suddenly disarmed me. I remember asking Mephistopheles what he was playing at, because Elista had told me that he would help me. He quickly disabused me of that notion. According to the archdevil, she had been using me all along: he said her powers came from him." She paused. "He didn't mention how, and I didn't want to stay around long enough to ask."

"I can think of two ways," he said, frowning. "She might have infernal blood and be related to him, but I doubt it. She doesn't strike me as someone who's planetouched. Otherwise, it could be that she's attached to him through some kind of contract." He paused, and the frown deepened. "I know one thing with certainty, though."

"What's that?"

"The next time we meet, I'm going to kill her."

_Just like that. _She knew that was part of the way he was, the same part that would have killed Swift not because he was a con-man, but because he was irritating and probably had devils in his family tree. _Let's face it,_ she told herself,_ there was a moment with Elista when you could have easily snapped, and to the hells with asking more questions. _The thought made her faintly uneasy, in spite of the many times she had killed before.

_I always had a cause to follow. It wasn't just about getting revenge. Was it?_

Pushing the thought away, she turned to Valen. "I'm sure there must be some other ways of showing your love, besides offering to kill someone," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

The ruse worked: she saw the faintest lift of his eyebrow, and a half-smile on his face. "Well, it's certainly one way, although I can think of more," he said, leaving her wondering what he was thinking of.

"Then you'll have to show me," she said.

"Here? Now?" The corner of his mouth twitched. "It might be better to wait until we're alone, my love."

_I didn't mean it like that... or did I? _She wasn't even sure: she only knew that she felt warm, somewhat flustered, and intensely aware of his close proximity. _This is what I get for spending too many years conducting a romance by letter. I had plenty of time to consider what to say to Patrick. Now I just blurt everything out. _

Valen seemed to have clammed up too now. Suddenly Cora felt his tail slipping loosely around her waist. Trying to mimic the gesture to embrace him in return, she lifted her own tail only for it to thrash around aimlessly on the ground.

Valen gave her a questioning glance.

"I can't get mine to work," she said. Seeing his puzzled response, she placed her fingertips on his tail, idly caressing the tip.

The effect on Valen was striking. His posture stilled: momentarily, his eyes closed and she thought she heard a sigh escape his lips.

"My tail seems to have a mind of its own," she explained hurriedly, taking her hand away. "I wanted to place it around your waist, but I can't get it to move."

"It's only been a short while since your tail came back," he said. "Maybe it's a matter of getting used to it?" He twisted around, and Cora assumed he was taking another look back at the card game... until she felt his fingers gently but firmly folding around her own tail. Lifting it up, he placed it behind his back, his left hand taking over to complete the job. With a tortuous, deliberate slowness, he slid his fingers along her tail's length, moulding it to fit around his own torso.

Her heart thudding, Cora took another gulp of her drink before she spoke. "Does it always feel like that?"

He glanced at her quickly, then away again. "Sometimes, if it's done right. I shouldn't... this isn't a good place for this." His hand was still resting lightly on her tail: with apparent reluctance, he lifted it away.

_I want to be away from curious glances, and forget about the fact that I'm stuck in the coldest corner of the Hells. _Before they had walked away from the table, Deekin had told her that he had booked a room: with the kobold's attention focused on the card game, no-one was using it.

_Oh no. Remember what happened the last time you made the first move with a man?_ _Play it safe, and wait for him to ask._

It only took one glance at Valen to make her think again: he seemed lost in his own thoughts, gazing into his glass as if trying to divine their future within it. A tell-tale flush still lingered on his cheekbones.

_When will we get the chance again?_

Her mind drifted to the way Valen had kissed her in the sanctuary. "Valen," she said, slowly. "This card game's going to take a while, and they're doing fine without us. Do you think we could go to our room... to talk?"

He turned his gaze upon her, startled and hungry all at once and she knew that, like her, talking was probably the last thing on his mind.


	34. Chapter 34 Disarmed

**Chapter 34 - Disarmed**

"I'd like the room key." The mere act of asking Deekin was enough to make Cora feel self-conscious. It didn't help that she saw a knowing glance pass between Swift and Tomi, and she felt glad that she had left Valen sitting at the other table.

Digging into his money pouch, Deekin handed over one key. "Dragon innkeeper gave Deekin a spare. Maybes Deekin hangs on to it in case the card game goes on too long?"

"No, that's a bad idea. One of us might want to leave the room at some point, so we need both keys." _More likely, we won't want interruptions._

"Deekin already has key... oh. You means Goatman going with yous? Deekin not realises-"

"Ya better not follow 'em in there, kobold. That could get a bit too kinky." Clutching his cards to his chest, Tomi leaned sideways to mutter something else to Deekin, just out of Cora's earshot. The kobold's eyes widened.

Cora held out her palm, saying nothing more. Tactfully for him, Deekin simply said "Okays," and dropped the spare into her hand, but as she left she heard hearty guffaws erupt from Swift and Tomi's direction. Her face burning, she walked back to Valen.

A short while ago Cora had been feeling faintly aroused and full of anticipation: now she simply felt awkward, and needed some time to collect her thoughts. "I'd like to go and freshen up, if you don't mind waiting a bit before coming in." she said, passing the spare key to him.

She walked away quickly, not looking back, and let herself into the room.

She hadn't known what to expect from a place like this. One bed dominated the space, easily large enough to accommodate a pit fiend. _Or a couple of tieflings. _ Nearby was a chest marked with sinister-looking symbols: on top of it was a stone emitting an amber glow, the only source of light in the room.

_There's a washbasin too, and I certainly need it. _After putting away her sword and cloak in the chest, she began to undress. As she set to work on the many straps and buckles keeping her armour in place, she couldn't help remembering another time. _That village festival, when Patrick and I were still together. _

Patrick had accidentally bumped into a man at the bar and jolted the jug of beer from his hand. Patrick had not only bought the man a replacement, but he did it for all the man's friends too. They raised a toast to the squire and his lady, and after the fuss was over, the couple had gone to sit in a quiet corner.

When Patrick told her that the last carriage of the day had left for town, she teased him, just a little. "What will your mother say, when she finds out you're not coming home tonight?"

He only laughed."I hardly think she'll be in terror of my life."He waited a heartbeat. "My virtue's another matter entirely."

Just like today, she knew only one room was still available: it was then that she leaned closer, and quietly told him that she had booked it. For a moment she saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes, gone so quickly that she thought she must have imagined it.

_It's not the same, _she told herself as she continued to strip the layers of clothing away. _I didn't even know what I was, back then. I was playing a role, without even fully knowing it. Maybe Patrick was, too._

_Soap. I need soap – where is it? _

Fumbling in her pack, she finally found it, and laying aside the last piece of armour, she removed the final layers of wool and linen covering her.

Although the room was warm, no doubt aided by Rizolvir's forge outside, the water on her skin felt like fresh-melted ice. She washed hurriedly, just as she had always done during all her travels in the past. _ I used to take such care to avoid being overlooked. Everyone thought I was such a prude, yet it wasn't that simple. After all, I'd been told all my life that it was necessary to hide myself away. _

_Forget it, _she told herself._ Valen's seen my body before, and he didn't recoil in horror, did he? _She was about to step back into her old chemise and leggings, worn and patched though they were. Quickly reconsidering, she rifled through her pack once more before snatching up a thin silk mage's robe. She had looted it back in the Underdark, thinking that it might serve as a nightgown plus cover-up, in case she had any unscheduled assassins dropping by. Slipping it over her head, she found that her tail made it tighter than before, but it would have to do.

She heard a knock on the door, one firm, decisive tap, and she knew it was Valen before he spoke. "Cora?"

She moved off the bed, then remembered that he had a key and promptly sat down again. "Come in."

She saw him take in his surroundings quickly, as he always did: afterwards his eyes lingered on her for longer than was usual. She wondered if he liked what he saw, but she did not ask him: it was not her way to preen in front of a man and fish for compliments.

"Did I give you enough time?" he asked as he turned to hang up his cloak on the door.

"Plenty," she said. "But where are my manners? Have a seat – I mean, have the whole bed!" She gave a little laugh before continuing. "There aren't any other places to sit in here, after all, are there?"

There was the hint of a smile on his face as he slowly approached her. "None that I've noticed." He settled himself down on the bed, near to her yet not close enough.

"Have been I missing anything interesting outside?" she asked, making small talk to quell her nerves rather than out of any real curiosity.

He shook his head. "I was too busy wondering how long you wanted on your own." As he looked back at her, his gaze burned into her, yet still he did not move closer.

"Well..." she began, shifting a little closer, "now that you're here, my time is all yours. We can do anything you like."

"Anything at all? You don't even know what I have in mind." If there was a hint of mischief in his expression, there was something else too, deep and hard to fathom.

She didn't know whether he was giving her a warning or invitation: probably both, knowing Valen. "Then I'll just have to-"

He leaned in to kiss her, stilling the words she was about to say.

_Trust you._

0-0-0

Valen had known Cora was feeling nervous as soon as he entered the room. By now, he knew her well enough to spot when she wasn't entirely at ease: it was there for him to see in the look on her face, and the way she talked a little too quickly. He also noticed that she had changed into something silky and tight, flattering her figure far more than her usual armour: it was hard not to stare.

He felt apprehensive too, in his way. After all that had happened today, he had everything to lose as well as gain. _I know without a doubt how much I want her. I just wonder how she will feel about me afterwards, if I give into my instincts._ Memories of past encounters did not help. _Quick trysts, without trust or affection and hardly any time. _On the rare occasions when he had given much thought to a woman's pleasure, he was doing what he was told, something that did not come naturally.

_Like the encounter with the marilith._ _ One service in return for another._ It was one reason why he had never been intimate with any of the drow: some of them reminded him of the more powerful females in the Abyss. Seductive though they were, he had no desire to be subordinate to them, nor to be pulled into their rivalries.

Yet Cora didn't remind him of most drow: she didn't even share much in common with the female tieflings he had known. She was all herself, rooted in a world he had barely passed through, versed in customs of courtship that he had never known. In that sense, he didn't quite know how to handle her.

_I'll have to learn, _he thought as he kissed her: _we both will._

Now he didn't want to stop: not when her lips were so soft and yielding, not when he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin, slippery fabric of her dress. _Slow down. Be sure. _He drew back for a moment, murmuring "What were you about to say?"

"I've forgotten," she said. "You're too distracting." It seemed that some of the uncertainty in her eyes had faded. She laid a hand on his breastplate, just above the place where his heart was beating a little faster than usual. "I just realised... I've never kissed you when you weren't wearing armour."

"Then I'll have to change that, won't I?"

It soon became clear she was going to help him... or hinder him, since she insisted on pulling his hair loose from its tie. Her fingers, working on one side of his waist while he unbuckled the other, also proved a powerful distraction of their own. Still, at last every buckle was undone and he was able to lift the rigid mithril breastplate away. As he twisted around to place it aside, Cora's knuckles lightly rapped on his leg-guards. "You'd best stand up to get those off, I think."

Movement made him aware of quite how constricting some of his armour was getting, even now, when all they had shared was a kiss. It didn't help when he glanced back at Cora, who was leaning forward with the neckline on her robe gaping slightly, showing a hint of golden skin. He set about the task at hand quickly, dealing with his lower legs first, all the while intensely aware of her watching him. Turning away for the last part, his hands faltered when he felt her light touch on his tail.

He gave her a warning look. "If you do that, I'll never finish."

Her answering smile was decidedly cheeky. "Then I'll do as you say... for now."

_It's like that, is it? _Finally he divested himself of the last piece of metal and leather: clad as he was in an under-shirt and leggings, his early arousal was all too obvious. Turning back to her, he saw her gaze travel downwards, then quickly upwards again to meet his eyes: he spied a flush on her cheeks, no doubt matched by his own.

"Well," he began as he sat back down, "Here I am, disarmed."

She gave the smallest nod: in the dim light, her eyes were so dark they were impossible to read. "Just like me," she said.

0-0-0

Tomi's eyes scanned the cards laid out on the table, suit by suit, all in order. Arden Swift had left them there whilst buying a round of drinks, as if the full deck proved he wasn't cheating, and he would no doubt count them carefully when he came back, ensuring that nothing had been added or taken away.

Tomi had a couple of packs of his own within close reach, but Swift's deck looked nothing like either: the back was emblazoned with a gruesome torture scene and the King bore an uncomfortably close likeness to Mephistopheles.

He saw Deekin glance away from the table. "I wouldn't pay Cora a visit if I were you," he warned the kobold. "Judging by the way they've been cosying up, they won't be playing cards."

"What yous mean?"

"I thought I explained all that earlier. She'll be busy polishing his sword."

"Goatman not gots a sword."

"I know that! It's my way of saying they've gone for a bit of slap 'n' tickle."

Deekin opened up his book. Tomi couldn't help thinking that whatever he was about to write would be sure to infuriate both Cora and Valen. He resolved to sneak a look at it later, just for the laughs.

"Deekin thinks that when he gets slapped, it not usually tickles much."

"All right, let's put it another way. They're making the beast with two backs."

"How yous make a beast with two backs?" the kobold said absently. "Deekin wonders if it be likes creating one of those flesh golems in the Underdark."

"Blimey, do I have to spell it out? Look... what do _you _think Cora and Valen are doing?"

Deekin simply stared back at him for a moment, whilst Tomi wondered how a kobold could look – and act – quite so naïve. "Deekin thinks they probably be mating, don't you?"

"That's it! Yep."

"Then why yous not say that in the first place?"

Tomi covered his face with his hands. "I give up. I bloody well give up."

"Older-Goatman be taking a long time with his drinks. Yous thinks Deekin should go helps?"

"Yeah, and if you can catch him stuffing spare cards up his sleeve while you're at it, all the better." _Talk of the devil, _he thought as Swift emerged from the innkeeper's room. "Too late. Listen, if this next game doesn't go well, I'm gonna tell 'im that my guts are playing up and then I'll rush off to the privy. All you'll need to do is sit tight and keep Swift talkin', and if you see me sneak back to the table in shadow form, don't say a peep to me. Act all innocent, like ya haven't seen me and don't know a thing that's goin' on. You're good at that."

"Deekin not sure what you implies, but Deekin knows you be up to something."

Tomi winked. "No more than that old git is."

0-0-0

_I could have undressed when he took his armour off_, thought Cora. _Maybe it would have been easier, that way. I could have slipped under the covers quickly. Could have..._

_Oh, Gods._

She turned her head as the tip of his tongue slid along the edge of her ear.

"You're sensitive there, aren't you?" he whispered, warm breath tickling her. "I've noticed that before."

_And you sound so sure of yourself, though you've every right to. _"Maybe," she said, sliding her hands into the gap between his leggings and under-shirt, feeling skin that felt smooth and almost hot to her touch. She could not resist working the linen upwards, and he helped her, slipping it over his head.

She had seen him like this before, under very different circumstances: now she realised he did not look quite the same.

"You're not as badly scarred as you once were," she said, surprised and glad for him all at once, as she stroked her fingertips over his muscular torso.

He looked down at his chest, at her stilled hand, before looking back into her eyes. "No. They're faded somewhat, all of them, even the brand on my back. It must have been a side effect of the rebirth, like your tail returning." His serious expression lightened. "Although that seems to have disappeared right now."

She didn't understand until he ran one hand down from her waist, slipping down over the base of her tail. Trapped as it was in the constricting robe, it shifted as if trying to free itself, and she laughed. "Not missing. Just well-hidden."

"Can't have that, can we?" He lowered her down onto the bed, onto her back in one easy movement. Above her, he reached for a pillow, tucking it under her head.

"You've done this before_." Which is more than I can say for myself._

"It was never this comfortable... but none of that matters now." He planted a kiss on her collarbone, his mouth moving down, seeking a way inside her neckline. "What's more important is that you're wearing far too much," he murmured, his voice dark and smoky.

She wondered if he could hear her heart beating, as with one hand he gathered a fistful of her skirt, drawing the material upward, skimming past her ankles, her calves, her knees. She stiffened involuntarily. _He doesn't care about your leg markings_, she told herself, willing herself to relax, and suddenly it didn't matter at all, not with his hand tracing a slow, distracting path upwards.

Her skirt was in the way now, ruched beneath her, entangled with her hips and tail: she tugged at the material ineffectually. Giving into an impulse, Cora scratched at her neckline with the sharpest of her claws. Thin as it was, the silk gave easily, and she scored it down to her navel with one swift movement.

If Valen looked startled, it didn't last long. "You're full of surprises," he said, taking up the edges with his fists: with a resounding rip, the last of the fabric gave way, leaving her bare beneath him.

For a moment there was only silence between them as she gazed up at him. She saw him take a deep breath, then release it as his fists unclenched and the tattered silk fluttered down, settling around her thighs. She felt cool air on her stomach and without thinking, reached out to pull the bed covers over herself.

His hand slipped around her wrist, stopping her. "Don't." It almost sounded like a command, until he added, "not yet," and the roughness in his voice seemed to carry a curious note of pleading. As his grip loosened on her wrist, in turn she let go. She did not need to ask him if he found her pleasing to look upon: his eyes spoke the truth as eloquently as anything that could fall from his lips.

"Now we're unmatched," she said, resting her hand on his waistband: with a nod of understanding and a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled the cord. With a fluid grace, he eased himself out from the last layer of clothing keeping them apart, before kicking it out of the way.

Now Cora understood a little of what he might feel for her. All those years of fighting had honed his physique as well as a sculptor might bring life from stone, yet she knew that she would have found him comely even if he were still as scarred with the cruel marks of slavery and war.

Not that she had much time to look, as he lay down beside her and pulled her closer. Kissing him with more abandonment than before, she revelled in the feel of his warm, firm skin against her own.

Now that he was unimpeded by clothes or awkwardness, Valen seemed intent on exploring every part of her with his mouth or hands. Once in the Underdark, when Cora had the rare chance to sleep in her own room, Valen had been the subject of her fantasies. Now she found a man's caress felt very different to her own. Valen, the one-time thief so capable at disarming traps, had a remarkably deft touch.

As he found his way to her inner thighs, she clamped them shut around his hand before parting them, allowing his strong fingers to slide over her sensitive flesh.

"I can't stand it," she said, her voice shaky.

"Shall I stop?" He didn't curtail what he was doing yet, and her legs stiffened as a finger slipped inside her.

Her head gave a hasty little shake, with her quickening breath being her only other answer.

Yet she didn't want him to do it all for her: in spite of her own inexperience, it wasn't her way to be passive. Her own fingers slid down over the flat planes of his abdomen, skimming past until she found her target, encircling the tight-stretched skin of his penis, curiously silky to the touch. Feeling him twitch beneath her fingers, she stroked up along the shaft: he groaned. Encouraged, she tried more, before Valen suddenly pulled her hand away.

"Don't tease."

"Then what were doing to me?" she protested, a little breathless.

"You have a point," he said, a wicked smile on his face as he repositioned himself over her, his arms locked. With one small shift of his hips, he slid over heated, aching flesh: she let out a small, ragged gasp.

"I don't think you've yet realised the effect you have on _me._" Once again, he moved, but she was ready for him: tilting her hips upwards, he barely avoided pushing inside her, and she moaned in frustration.

He gazed into her eyes, and suddenly all bravado was gone. "Are you..."

_Ready? I've been waiting for a man like you for years. _ Her fingertips pressed against his mouth to silence him, and she felt the skin, so responsive. "Don't dare ask if I'm sure."

Her hand fluttered over his shoulder: she felt the exquisite tension of his back muscles under her fingertips as he slowly pushed inside her. He pulled away slightly, but not for long: she let out an involuntary cry as he pressed deeper, and his voice echoed hers.

_It's not meant to hurt this much. Is it? _But he seemed to understand, without her saying it, tight as her flesh was against his. He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her slowly, and by the time he rolled his hips again, she relaxed more.

At first it was strange, this sensation of him moving both against her, and inside her. Yet little by little, making small shifts in position, she began to recapture some of the sensations she'd had when he touched her. Suddenly, it felt just right, and she forgot about notions of comfort, or whether or not she was doing this correctly.

Instinct took over. It was only as he stilled his movement that she realised her claws were digging into his back. She loosened her grip, but he seemed to take no mind: he simply reached over with one hand, catching the end of her tail before placing it between them. She gave him a questioning look, which he answered with just two words.

"Trust me."

"Always." _ I still don't understand what-_

_Oh._

For as Valen pressed deep once more, the tail-tip pressed close to the one, sensitive spot that he was unable to reach. Again, and again, with each quickening thrust.

Something changed in Valen, too: his eyes were half-closed but a glimpse of colour of them showed them shifting, darkening. For all of his strength, she felt him tremble beneath her fingertips: his breathing hastened.

"Can't hold on," he gasped.

"Then let go, love."

Her tail slipped away, making her gasp as he thrust harder, faster still. With one last primal cry he shuddered: his hips bucked, and she felt a rush of heat within her. He lowered himself on to her, his mouth against her neck, and lay still as his breathing gradually slowed. Cora stroked his back with a slow, lazy motion as his hard muscles unclenched and he looked towards her.

0-0-0

_Too quick, _Valen thought, _but I didn't let go completely. Not in the way I feared I would._

Cora was still beneath him, curls spread out over the pillow. He felt her hips shift slightly, and he realised he was probably starting to squash her. With a rueful grin, he rolled away onto his side, and Cora pulled the covers over the two of them before lying beside him. "I could easily get used to this," she said, settling her head on his chest.

"So could I," he said, luxuriating in the loose, melting sensation in his limbs and the way that Cora's supple body fitted so perfectly against his own.

Suddenly he felt her tense up: she stared at her fingers. "Gods, I think I scratched you quite badly." She showed him a smear of blood on her fingertips, her face betraying all the guilt of a rookie thief caught in the act. "I've probably given you one or two new scars."

His own fingers caressed her neck. "I was far too distracted to notice." It wasn't quite true, but the sharp bite of her claws had only heightened his arousal at the time. _I wasn't exactly gentle by the end, either. _"I'm more concerned whether I hurt you."

"I'll need a few day's bed rest, After that, I might be able to walk again." Valen noted that her sly little smirk told another story altogether.

"For a tiefling, you're not well-practised at lying."

"You once said I wasn't typical of our kind, didn't you? No, honestly... I'm fine." She laid a soft kiss on his chest before looking back up at him. "I'm happy."

"So am I." He felt a sense of wonder that he could say those words and mean them so wholeheartedly. "More than I can remember." _Even though I know full well what lies outside this room, and how uncertain our future is. _

_No. I won't think of that now. I won't ruin this for myself, or for Cora._

0-0-0

Cora awoke in the dark, feeling the air chill on her breasts and an unexpected, delicious warmth on the other side. Valen was wrapped around her, his broad chest against her back, his arm loosely draped over her waist: in turn, her tail was curled around his thigh. She could have drifted back to sleep, content, but as she closed her eyes she heard a tapping sound, light but instantly recognisable.

"Umm... Boss?" Deekin's voice was faint and sounded slightly strained.

_Deeks, this isn't the best time. Still, it could have been a whole lot worse. _

She felt Valen stirring, muscles flexing. As he stretched out his arm, she heard him sigh.

Another series of taps followed. "Deekin gots a problem..."

This time Valen's body tensed, and she heard him mutter "Kobold," in a sleep-muffled voice. It was hard to tell whether he had woken at all. She shifted sideways, carefully moving his arm before sitting up. Since she was already awake, she might as well go and see what Deekin wanted. _Where's my robe? Ah. That won't work. _ Looking up, she saw Valen's cloak hanging on the back of the door: that would serve well enough for a quick chat.

She heard Valen speak behind her as she padded across the room. "Cora?"

"I won't be long," she said, looking back with a swift smile.

Tap, tap, tap. "Boss!" She thought he sounded somewhat agitated now.

Behind her, she heard Valen let out a long, deep sigh.

Taking the cloak from the hook, she draped it over herself, threading her arms through the arm-slits, pulled it closed and then unlocked the door with one hand.

Deekin wasn't alone.


	35. Chapter 35 With This Ring

_A/N I've somewhat simplified the process of getting the Sleeping Man's ring. I didn't think the original version added any storytelling aspects that I wanted to write about._

**With This Ring**

"Let Deekin go," said Cora. "Right now. One warning only."

Arden Swift not only ignored her, but waggled the curved blade positioned dangerously close to her friend's throat. Deekin tried to crane his head backwards, but Swift gripped harder with his other hand.

"Your warning counts for nothing, unless you don't care about the kobold's life. But you do, don't you? It sounds like the two of you go way, way back. I'm here to get my property back, and I'll need further payment for my inconvenience." His eyes travelled down the length of the robe.

Resisting the urge to fold her arms, she stared back. "What property? I don't know what you're talking about." Behind her, she heard slow, slow movements, and the clink of metal: she guessed that Valen had heard everything, and was trying to be quiet while he geared up for a fight.

"Isn't it obvious, or are you too addle-coved to work it out? My trumpet's missing because the halfling runt stole it from me." He sneered. "No-one peels Arden Swift and gets away with it."

"How do I know if you're telling the truth? Chances are that you were cheating him."

"I explained the game's rules at the start. It's hardly my fault if he's too clueless to play by them properly."

Cora's first thought was to attack Swift, but she knew that all it would take was one small slip for Arden to slit Deekin's throat. She couldn't rely on knocking his hand away quickly enough. "We need to talk about this. You'd better come in."

"I'm quite comfortable here, and I have the kobold just where I want him. Besides, I know that son of a demon's in there with you."

It was then that Valen chose to step forward. "Since you're a gambling man, you should reconsider your chances. Slit the kobold's throat, and you'll still have two of us left to end your useless life."

Swift's smile only widened. "Think you're the hendest blood on the planes, don't you? I know my odds of success well enough. Is it two against one... or against the whole inn? Make one move and I'll let out the secret that your blabbermouth friend told me." He spoke again in a whisper. "Tanar'ri don't live for long around here, berk."

_Great, so now I have yet another reason to hide my identity, _thought Cora_. _"Your threats don't impress me. Everyone in here is so apathetic I doubt they would spare us a second glance."

For a moment, she had the sinking feeling that she'd made a mistake, and Swift was about to test out her theory at the top of his voice. She shifted on her feet, preparing herself to jump at Swift. She knew Valen was probably doing the same.

She hadn't bargained on Swift's fondness for talking. "Apathetic? I'd say that about those joyless gith pilgrims, but they're not the ones you need worry about. Look around this joint a little harder. Erinyes. Blood Wars veterans. And if news spread outside here... I only can imagine how much Gru'ul would enjoy a couple of Tanar'ri slaves. He'd pay quite handsomely for the entertainment."

Behind Cora, she saw a shadow move. _Tomi. _She caught herself before Swift noticed her staring. She needed to keep him talking. "Who's Gru'ul anyway? I can hardly feel threatened by someone I've never even heard of."

"Not heard of Gru'ul? That little fact is going to make him angry... _very_ angry, and he's renowned for his short temper. Let's just say that he's not one of your more diplomatic devils and some of the machinery in his mine is vicious, no other word for-"

She heard the thud, followed by a gurgle as Swift jerked forward, and she snatched the blade even as the old bard began to stumble, wresting it from his loosening grip. Deekin slipped out of harm's way, and as Swift hit the floor Cora crouched down, slashing his throat.

For a moment, the room went quiet, then the murmur of conversation quickly resumed. Cora stared down at the blood which could have so easily been Deekin's, watching it pool on the floor.

_Well, that's poetic justice. _

"He's had it," said Tomi, as blithe as ever. I got a good hit on his back anyway."

"Would you care to explain what this was all that about? Deekin nearly got killed!"

"Dunno why you're all lookin' at me like that. The card game wasn't working out too well, so I had to resort to Plan B. Only trouble was, I hadn't thought of a Plan C when Deekin got grabbed."

"Didn't you once tell me you could beat anyone at cards, any time you chose?" said Valen.

Tomi looked shiftier than ever, before digging deep into his pockets. "Everyone's gotta have an unlucky streak sometime. Still, I came up with the goods at the end, see?" He brought out the Trumpet of Pandemonium.

"That's a relief. Let's hope it's worth all the trouble."

"What's this I see?" The dragon emerged from his small room. He sniffed almost delicately at the corpse on the floor before raising his great head to stare at Cora. "Well well. It seems you've made a mess of my inn."

"He threatened to slit the throat of my friend."

"Do you expect me to care about trifles such as who did what to whom and why? Pah! I want the body brought to the kitchen and all the blood cleaned off the tiles. You'll also have to pay his bar tab in full."

As the dragon strode away, Cora spoke. "Kitchen? Why would he want us to take Swift there?"

"He's a dragon," said Valen drily. "It might be better for our sanity if we tell ourselves it's for his own use."

0-0-0

Cora was left to get dressed while the others dealt with Swift. She gathered her possessions up, taking a mental inventory as she went along. _Soap – still damp, I'd better wrap that in a bandage. Sword. _Opening up the storage chest, she took out Enserric, slipping him into the scabbard on her belt.

_Is that all? _One more item came to mind, small but rather important.

_The tincture. _She had bought the bottle from the merchant Gulthrys in the Underdark a while ago. The brew was said to stave off the monthly flux if taken regularly: he had also told her, somewhat slyly, that it prevented pregnancy too.

She hadn't been thinking of that at the time, only of convenience while travelling. Now, she searched through her pack, trying to calculate her last dose. _It might have been about a day ago, but how can I tell, when the sky's the same shade each time I go outside?_

Finding the small bottle belatedly, she opened it up, letting a drop of bitter liquid pool onto her tongue before swallowing. She hoped that it wasn't too late to be of use.

To her eternal mortification, a voice spoke in her mind, the accent distinctly male. T_here's no doubt children tie you down, charming though they are._

Cora froze. _Enserric? How much did you hear earlier? _

_In that musty old chest? Nothing... but the next time you store me away, please dust first. Honestly, I couldn't stop sneezing. _

_Please tell me you couldn't read my mind._

The sentient sword chuckled. _Should I have done? Sadly, it seems I've missed some entertainment._

_Don't say another word. _A moment later she relented, driven by curiosity. _What do you know about children, anyway?_

_You forget that I was once a man, made from flesh instead of cold steel. I had a daughter, so long ago that she must be rather old, assuming that she lives at all. _

It was true that she found it hard to imagine his life before his fateful transformation. _What was she like? _

_Delightful, when I wasn't too busy or distracted to deal with her. Bright, too. I'm sure she inherited her intellect from me, although her dear mother had the effrontery to forbid me from teaching her magic. _

Cora still remembered the heated argument her foster-parents had when Amadei first taught her how to wield a sword: it only stuck in her mind because their usual idea of an spat was to bicker in a mild and civilised way. To Helene, the activity was too risky in adolescent hands while Amadei insisted it would burn off restless energy and build discipline. She turned her thoughts back to Enserric. _So you didn't get along with her mother?_

_You could say that, although it would be something of an understatement. _

She might have asked more, but the door opened, and Valen walked in. "It's done, although it seems Swift had a hefty bar tab."

"Don't tell me how much it was. I'd rather not know." She was all too aware that their funds were not infinite. It did not help that some of their money was in the form of silver coins, a currency which no-one seemed to want in Cania.

Valen wasn't fully armoured yet, and Cora watched as he started to strap on his breastplate. "Need help?"

He grinned. "Your way of helping is highly distracting, my lady."

"That's the whole point." She strolled over to the door. "Our first death in Cania. It feels like we're getting back to business as usual."

The floorboards creaked with each step as he walked up to her. "If the Sleeping Man helps us to get out of here, I don't know when we'll have the chance to be alone again."

Cora turned to face him. "Right now I'd like to lock the door and shut out the rest of Cania, but that's not really an option, is it?"

"Your kobold would never leave us in peace." All levity suddenly gone, he gazed back at her. "I'm not sure what dangers we will face if we find a way out. All I can do is try to keep you safe."

"And I you. We managed well enough in the Underdark, didn't we?" Even as she spoke she knew it wasn't quite true but it didn't matter, because he gathered her into his arms and kissed her as if he might never get the chance again.

0-0-0

"Boss. You gots the horn?" Deekin's stage whisper was louder than most people's speaking voices: Cora was thankful that they had not yet reached the temple.

Before Cora could answer, Tomi quipped "I think she's s'posed to ask Valen that."

Getting his double meaning, Cora gave the halfling a none-too-subtle nudge with her foot, nearly unbalancing when he dodged her. "Looks like you caught a dose o' touchiness from him," muttered the halfling, "and that's even worse than the Calishite Itch."

If Tomi kept up the ribbing, Cora thought she'd be giving him a dose of the back of her hand soon. Still, they were all feeling a little frayed right now, and even the rogue's innuendoes sounded more brittle than usual. _Back to reality, whatever that is. Why couldn't I have stayed in that room longer? _The subject of her thoughts walked a little way ahead of them, leading the group: he half-turned as he reached the entrance of the temple, fixing his gaze upon Tomi.

"You can wait out here, halfling." he said. "Don't freeze or anything while we're gone." As Valen walked in, Cora heard him murmur "Calishite _itch_?" under his breath: doubtless he had heard the entire conversation.

As always the Sensei was in attendance. Although she was preoccupied with a pile of books, she seemed quietly pleased to see them return to the shrine. After confiscating their weapons, she returned to her studies.

For a moment, Cora felt guilty for what she was about to do, a vestige of her long experience of obeying the rules in temples. She reminded herself that they meant no harm to the Sleeping Man. Besides, she had never known of any religion with only one genuine adherent.

The group walked along the narrow corridor, and into the sanctuary. "Still sleeping in, I see," said Valen. "I get the impression that celestials don't need to earn their keep."

Deekin nudged Cora. "Boss. Yous sure you still gots the trumpet?"

"I haven't lost it since you last asked," she said, digging out the instrument from its hiding place. "Well, here goes..." Before she could raise it to her lips, Deekin stopped her, laying his paw on her arm. The kobold gazed up at Cora, his head slightly tilted. She immediately recognised it as his special pleading expression, something she was oddly powerless to resist. Sometimes she wondered if it was a bardic skill of his.

"Deekin be thinking... yous and Goatman be skilled in many ways, but yous nots know how to be bards."

"I don't think either of us would dispute that. All right, Deeks, what do you want?"

"Little Deekin wants to play the music of Pandemonium, if that be okays with Boss."

"Just give it to him quickly," said Valen, his expression betraying a weary amusement. "You'll never get any peace otherwise."

"I have the feeling that we won't get any peace anyway." She handed Deekin the trumpet. "Have fun, but don't blow too hard. With any luck, we can wake him without disturbing the Sensei."

"Yay! Deekin be happy to play for Boss!"

The bard did not play immediately. Instead he studied the instrument for a moment or two before approaching the celestial. "And so the brave kobold prepared for the performance of his life, thankful that he rarely gets stage fright. Although it be hard to get nervous when the audience be fast asleep." He positioned the trumpet against the celestial's ear.

"That's too close for-" If Valen said any more, his next words were drowned out.

Cora thought she heard the shrieking of the lost souls outside, combined with the massed dying shout of the Elder Brain: she heard the clash of a thousand swords, the crackle of burning buildings and the screams of those still trapped inside. Every discordant or disturbing noise she had ever experienced in her life came back to her, plus others suggesting horrors she could barely imagine, all mangled together.

Just as Cora began to fear the din would never end, it stopped, and she could only hear the ringing of her poor abused ears. Realising she was on her knees with her hands clasped tightly over her head, she stood up.

_It worked._

The Sleeping Man was sitting upright: his eyes were covered in a golden film, yet she knew he could see her clearly, for he was staring as if he'd never seen a woman before. "You..." he said. "You're her?" He seemed disoriented, which was hardly surprising after the manner of his awakening.

"My name's Cora... and I'm so sorry about the noise," she said, not knowing how else to begin. "It was louder than I expected."

"Even Deekin finds it too much by the end," said the kobold, sounding disappointed.

The celestial approached Cora, his gait surprisingly graceful after his long rest. He reached out to her, his slender fingers cupping her cheek: a flicker of confusion crossed his features yet he did not move away. "I need to know if you're the one. Are you?"

In spite of all his beauty his touch repulsed Cora, but she resisted the urge to slap his hand away. Instead she took a step backwards. "I'm not sure what you're asking."

"I can guess," said Valen, his voice sharp.

As if for the first time, the planetar seemed to notice Valen.

_Not that you could exactly miss him. _

Valen stood tall, his arms folded across his chest. "She's not the woman you've been waiting for, in case you're wondering." His words were cool and measured, but his mouth was set in a scowl and his tail flicked back and forth.

_Surely he can't be jealous. Can he? _ Cora felt a secret thrill of pleasure, then suppressed it quickly: they needed to stay on good terms with the Sleeping Man, if they were to ask for his aid.

Looking from Valen to Cora, the planetar's shoulders sagged. "In truth, I had doubts when I saw what you were. Why did you wake me?"

"It's a long story, but we're hoping you can help us with some information." She did not get the chance to continue, for she heard the sound of running footsteps: Sensei Dharvana burst into the room, her sharp eyes quickly taking in the scene. For a moment she stared at the planetar, her mouth opening then closing without making a sound, and then she turned back to Cora.

A dusting of fresh snow patterned Dharvana's hair, and she was trembling, whether from cold or anger. "I... thought that horrendous din came from outside. So I went out and looked, and found nothing. Then the truth dawned upon me - I knew you were careless, but I never thought you would abuse my hospitality! How dare you?"

"I can explain," began Cora, "if you'll listen."

"Like the last time? Excuses!" Without another word, Dharvana launched herself at Cora.

It soon became clear why the residents of the city generally left the Sensei in peace. The githzerai had been trained in some form of martial art, raining punches and kicks with deadly precision, and Cora found herself blocking blows rather than landing many hits of her own. Valen got behind the sensei, trying his best to bring her down, but the sensei could dodge as well as mete out damage with astonishing speed.

"Here comes halfling death!" yelled Tomi, making a late entrance, but the battle-cry broke Cora's concentration at the wrong time. Dharvana's fist made a decisive, dizzying blow on the side of her head, swiftly followed by another. As Cora struggled to fend off another hit Valen pulled one hand behind Dharvana's back: the sensei tried to trip him, but as her foot hooked around his leg Deekin's spell hit her squarely, holding her fast.

"Stop!" Holding up a hand, the Sleeping Man stepped forward, placing himself in between Cora and Dharvana. "All of you! Why are you fighting in my home?"

"I didn't want to start a fight," said Cora, rubbing at the side of her head, "but I'm not going to stand there and take it, either."

"Why did you attack us?" asked the Sleeping Man, addressing Dharvana directly. The spell was fading now, and Cora readied herself for another fight.

It didn't happen. As the Sensei unfroze, all her attention was focused upon the planetar. "I would never harm _you," _she protested._ "_I was only trying to protect you. By disturbing your dreams, they have tainted your place of worship.""

"You're half in love with him anyway," said Cora, sore enough that she was beyond any notions of tact. "Why is it so devastating if he wakes up?"

"You made a mockery of my religion. Are you going to rob me of my dignity too?"

"Wait. You speak as if this is a temple, yet there was never one here before," said the Sleeping Man.

"The Sensei worships _you_," said Valen. "She created a religion in your name: unfortunately you're the last to know."

"This is true?" The planetar's golden gaze was fixed upon Dharvana. He didn't appear flattered by the notion.

The priestess glanced downwards, her face betraying some internal struggle, before she answered him. "It's true, although the tiefling casts it in a negative light. After hearing about you, I brought a group of pilgrims all the way from the plane of Limbo to your shrine. The original group dwindled away but I hoped to recruit more followers here. I communed with your dreams and wrote down the core of the Fivefold Mysteries. It was done in your honour, my Lord."

The planetar looked thunderstruck. "In my _honour_? I am not a god, and my dreams were never meant for an audience. I find the idea abhorrent."

The Sensei's face fell: she seemed utterly crushed by his answer. "Of all the secrets I learned from you... I had no idea you felt that way." Looking away from the celestial, and meeting no-one else's eyes, she slunk away.

"For the first time I almost pity her," said Valen.

"So do I." Glancing at the Sleeping Man, Cora guessed he did not feel the same way: he still seemed caught up in annoyance.

"Are you followers of this cult too?" asked the planetar.

Cora shook her head. "We wanted to meet you for a different reason. Through the Sensei, we found out about your quest to find the Knower of Names. That was of great interest to us, because we're trapped here in Cania while the Reaper's portals are closed."

"Closed?" the planetar repeated, puzzled. "The doorways in the Realm of the Reaper are always open."

"It must've been like that before you started your shut-eye," said Tomi. "It's not like that any more, not since Big M went and found out the Reaper's True Name. He made the bag of bones close the portals, and now they're about as much use as a pub without beer. No-one's going anywhere right now."

"This is why we wondered if you could help ," added Cora. "We need to go back to the Prime Material Plane as soon as we can. The Reaper asked us to find out his True Name, so that we can command him to reopen the doors."

"No one would ever disclose their True Name willingly. Nor would they tell anyone to seek it out," said the Sleeping Man, sounding dubious.

"Perhaps he sees the alternative as worse," said Valen. "We want the portals open, and so does he. He also knows that we have no desire to return here once we leave."

"Can he not tell you his name?"

"No," said Valen. "Mephistopheles ordered the Reaper not to speak it to others, It seems he anticipated that possibility."

"The archdevil has supreme cunning. He always stays one step ahead, and that is how he protects his interests. Above all, he is ruthless. Strange as it seems to me, the Reaper must feel that his true identity is safer in your hands."

"He's desperate," said Cora. "The Reaper has lost his purpose, hasn't he? If he is part of the Realm, and the Realm is part of him, it must feel like having a limb cut off. We'll start to feel that way if we stay here too long. We don't belong here – none of us do, and we're all feeling the effects in different ways." A look passed between herself and Valen, a shared understanding.

"No-one feels at home in this plane any more, save for the Baatezu." The celestial's golden eyes lingered first on Cora, then on Valen. "Yet you are tieflings."

"Tanar'ri tieflings," admitted Cora, "and I was born in the Prime. This isn't my home by any stretch of the imagination."

"Tanar'ri, Baatezu... they are simply different flavours of evil," said the planetar dismissively.

"You overlook the fact that tieflings are partly human," said Valen. "Has it ever occurred to you that some of us don't wish to be evil, or that we might value our human traits?"

"Are humans all benign? It is not what I have heard."

_He really is like Lavoera, _thought Cora_. This isn't going too well. _"We can't all be born celestial, can we? Not all of us have such luck, so we work with the cards we're dealt with. I know from experience that Valen is a good man, someone I would trust with my life. I'm sure he'd vouch for me, too."

Valen gave her a brief, sweet smile. "Always, my love."

"You spoke of love, and it did not sound like a lie. I would not have expected such a sentiment from your kind." said the Sleeping Man.

"Maybes green angel man needs to get out more?" said Deekin.

The planetar fell silent, stroking his smooth, hairless chin. Finally he looked back at them, his expression wistful. "It seems you have found something that eludes me."

It wasn't Cora's business to offer advice. Her last attempt with Aribeth hadn't worked well at all. Still, she couldn't resist trying. "A friend once told me that the best time to meet someone is when you're not looking. What if waiting around here is the wrong approach?"

"I was not always lost in a world of dreams," the planetar admitted. "When I sought out my true love's identity, circumstance forced me to abandon my quest."

"What happened?"

"I risked placing the Knower of Names in peril because Mephistopheles had hidden her away from his rivals. She was foolish enough to love him, yet the archdevil rewarded her loyalty by imprisoning her in a remote corner of Cania. My aim was to find her prison, free her and find the answer to my question, but by then, it was clear that others knew of my search. I don't know what would have happened if she had fallen into the hands of power-hungry devils."

"Torture," said Valen flatly. "They would make her long for death even if she is immortal."

"That was why I walked away." He paused a moment before continuing. "You seem to understand my concerns, yet I still have misgivings."

"You can trust us. I promise you," said Cora. She had the sinking feeling that a if human's word counted for little with the planetar, then the promise of a tiefling would be ranked far lower. She had to try though. She didn't know what else to do.

"Umm, Deekin gots a question."

"Go on, small creature," said the Sleeping Man. "Ask what you will."

"Deekin be thinkings... if you be waiting for True Love and she be outside the city somewheres, how she goings to find yous when all the Reaper's gates be closed?"

At first the celestial looked puzzled, but comprehension slowly dawned. "I have always believed that my soulmate must share my yearning for our union. If she cannot reach me because of the archdevil's trickery, it must feel intolerable for her."

_Well played, Deeks. _"We want to help you change that situation," urged Cora. "We need those gates to open as much as you do."

Slowly, the Sleeping Man nodded. "It is true. Perhaps I can trust you well enough to say more. I will tell you how I made my journey, but I must ask a favour in return."

"Ask us anything at all," said Cora, privately hoping that the price wouldn't be too high. "We're listening."

0-0-0

The friends sat listening as the Sleeping Man recounted his tale in full. Occasionally Deekin asked him to pause so that he could make notes in his journal, but at long last the story was over.

"It sounds like quite the expedition," said Cora. "There's one thing I don't understand, though. How did you leave this city in the first place? There's no visible way out of here."

"There are ways and means," said the planetar. "I have always been able to see the gates. Certain advanced forms of magic may help some people see clearly. An item charged with the right enchantment will also work."

"We have none of those things," said Cora, disheartened.

The Sleeping Man slipped a ring off his finger then placed it on his palm, staring down at it. "I had this made for my love, but too late I realised that it will not fit a woman's hand. Perhaps you could wear on a neckchain, or else your friend can wear it instead. If I give you this, I expect you to find out my true love's name if you reach the Knower. Without your True Name I cannot bind you to your promise, I must rely on any sense of honour you have." He stared down at the ring, and his fingers closed around it as if he wasn't quite ready to lend his trust.

"I swear on Helm's name that I'll find the name out for you, if it's within my power."

"A vow to a god is a solemn one." He held out the ring to Cora and she took it from him. She could feel the Weave pulsing around the trinket. As the Sleeping Man had warned her, it appeared too large for her fingers, so she passed it to Valen.

"It fits well enough," he said. "Strange. I can see clearly yet the light seems subtly different now."

"If you go outside, the way forward will be clear."

"I can't thank you enough for this," said Cora.

"You can," said the Sleeping Man. "Remember your vow and keep it: then all will be well."

_Planar cant from Mimir dot net_

_Blood = an expert in any field._

_Hende = a real blood. _

_Addle-coved: idiotic_

_Peel - swindle_


	36. Chapter 36 It Could Be You

**It Could Be You**

The weather was fickle all the way to Waterdeep: the passage was choppy and a storm had blown them off-course for a while. Now, the winds had died down just as suddenly: the sailors were grumbling about the water being almost too calm, as if the sea did not wish them to proceed further north.

_Sailors. They must be the most superstitious people in all Faerun, but with their precarious existence they have good enough reason._

Amadei heard footsteps behind him: he recognised the shuffle of his wife's silk slippers. She believed them practical for a voyage, and so far refused to don the sturdy yet unflattering pair of well-oiled boots he had packed for her.

"I hoped we would arrive in Waterdeep before sunset. Surely we're running late."

"I doubt we'll even pass Daggerford by then. The elements won't run to our schedules, dear."

_And what schedule do we have, really? Some non-urgent Temple business, and the opportunity to meet Master Durnan at last, and see what he can tell us of Cora. If anything at all._

The errand to Waterdeep needed no more than a messenger, rather than a senior member of the Order. He had mentioned it in passing to his wife, because he hoped to send a letter to Master Durnan, but Helene had seized on it, suggesting that they should could go there to speak with him in person.

"You were always ruled by the women in your family,"Sir Lennard had told him when he made the request.

"Duty takes many forms, and once a man starts a family, he bears a responsibility to them as well as to his life's work. If he cannot accept that fact, then it is better not to marry at all,_" _retorted Amadei. Lennard, a single man for his entire life, had made a similar point in a sermon recently and Amadei had taken a small, not entirely pious satisfaction in repeating his words back at him.

Their working relationship had been characterised by such snippiness over the years, yet it was like the bickering of brothers, touched by rivalry but never truly bitter. They held an underlying core of respect for one another even when they did not agree, and Amadei had not been too surprised when his wish was granted.

Besides that, he had something more than a wife's wishes to spur him into taking the trip. After Elista's funeral and her mysterious disappearance, he had tried once more to talk to Ruby, the fallen paladin, in the hope that she could shed some more light on the situation. She had been more open than he expected, speaking of her alarm at the course of events, and of her recent conversations with the deceased. Ruby confessed that she had first mentioned Cora in passing to Elista, who seemed to take quite an interest in the story – and also that Elista had been spying on a tiefling, for reasons unknown.

Amadei could not be wholly certain that the tiefling in question was Cora, but plane-touched beings were rare in his part of the multiverse. He also knew from Helene's own account that Elista had met Cora, and that the fortune-teller seemed to know some details of her current travels and her companions. Unable to find out any more at home, Waterdeep was his only lead, for now.

_I only hope that it helps my wife, rather than reopening the wound._

"Are you feeling well now?" he asked her. Unaccustomed as she was to boat travel, she had been violently sick in their cabin when the storm was at its height.

"Much better," she said. "I'm poorly suited to roughing it, aren't I? I am still glad we're doing this, though."

He slipped an arm around her waist. "So am I."

In truth, he expected that the innkeeper would not be able to tell them very much. All he knew was that she was likely to be in the Underdark, if she still lived. The news about Waterdeep seemed to have dried up, but that fact alone told him nothing about his foster-daughter's fate. They would have to wait, he and Helene, just as they had done on another occasion.

0-0-0

They had faced their first trial along the journey, a hulking beast of a balor, but now a new challenge faced Cora's party.

The narrow, overhung path had widened out into a great vista, and at last Cora was able to get a measure of the scope of the land, away from confined spaces. Shelter would be hard to find here, that was for sure. The wind buffeted against her constantly, searing the small patches of skin on her face that were neither helmeted nor wrapped in a scarf.

She had not known what to expect: how could she? A winter-clad Hilltop was no adequate comparison, for the drifts had never been so impossibly deep, nor had there been great mountains of ice, glimmering like quartz.

Yet those features were mere exaggerations of the nature she had seen elsewhere: what she faced now was a river made from lava, molten orange, flowing wide and rapid. The banks were made of impacted ice with no sign of any thaw, the two elements not affecting each other at all.

"I wasn't expecting this," she said, the words inadequate and small for the wonder she felt, daunting though it was. "How are we going to get to the other side?"

"You could try swimming, but I wouldn't recommend it," said Valen. Cora could not see his expression since he was swathed against the chill, but the fact that he hadn't yet lost his humour was a comfort to her. He had been humming earlier too, an occasional, apparently unconscious habit that she found endearing in spite of his inability to hold a tune. Evidently he was in as good a mood as anyone could be when they were trapped in an icy Hell. She hoped it would last.

"There's got to be a way. Deeks, did the Sleeping Man mention the river in his story?"

"Angel man said to turn right where valley path opens up. That be here. Deekin sure he mentions fiery river but he not says how he gets across. Maybes he flies?"

"Maybe _you_ could fly across, kobold. The rest of us don't have wings," said Valen.

It was not a good place to check Deekin's notes on the route, so they backtracked, hoping to find another way around. Tomi spotted a narrow, steep pathway leading to the top of the cliffs, and they struggled their way uphill.

"Look, Boss. There be gateposts over there," said Deekin, pointing the opposite direction to the fiery river.

"More than gateposts," said Valen. "I can see an astral doorway between them."

"Now Deekin be getting confused. The Sleeping Man mentioned a door that led to a place with a mimic box inside. Maybes that was the one, but it be in the wrong direction? Deekin still sure we gots to get past that river anyway."

"Hate those things," muttered Tomi. "You find yerself a nice fat chest to nick stuff out of, and the next moment it's trying to take a lump out of your arse. That's downright dishonest, that is."

"If there's the smallest chance those gates lead somewhere indoors, I'll gladly risk a mimic." As she spoke, Cora's eyes were drawn to a crystal, standing proud of the snow. The sight made her stomach coil with unease: as she walked closer, she realised why. Its twin had been found within the City of Lost Souls earlier, the viewing-crystal that Valen had smashed so thoroughly after seeing Mephistopheles and his army of raised corpses. Even now, she could see something flicker within, like shadow-puppets cast upon a wall in candlelight.

The others followed her, and she felt Valen's gauntleted hand clasp her shoulder. She stopped, and he unstrapped his flail, handing it to her.

"I need to look within the crystal... I need to see what's there," he said. "This time, I don't want to destroy it unthinkingly."

"You won't lose control of yourself this time," she said. She did not give the flail back, and she told herself that she was simply following his wishes.

There were facets enough for more than one to peer into at once, and she pressed her forehead to the cool, glassy surface. Once again, the scene within was dark, contrasting greatly with the white vista around her and she needed a few moments for her sight to adjust. She wondered if the crystal had captured the recent past of Lith My'athar. for a great battle raged between drow, duergar and illithid, bloody and relentless. She felt the rush of adrenaline as if she was still there fighting among them, and it took her a while before she noticed the architecture was not that of Lith My'athar but somewhere else.

It was then that she saw Mephistopheles. He strode across the battleground as unhurried as if he was taking an afternoon stroll in the sun, untouched by the chaos all around him. Occasionally he stopped, and as his red gaze settled on a combatant they burst into flame, flailing in agony before quickly collapsing into a heap of charred flesh and bone. The archdevil stopped once more and this time his great fists clenched, his body and face tensing as he gathered in on himself. His livid flesh pulsed crimson before he straightened up, instantly taller than before.

"Even now, he grows in strength." Valen's tone of voice was close to a snarl.

Cora broke off her viewing to look at him. Although Valen's posture was taut, his hands gripping the sides of the crystal too firmly, his eyes were their usual piercing blue.

Cora took a quick peek back at the crystal, but the scene dimmed. "It's fading," she said. "As if a message has been sent."

"I don't recognise the city, but I am certain of one thing. The archdevil _is_ gathering an army. It looks like he will succeed where the Valsharess failed. Even if the Seer yet survives, her forces are too depleted to topple him." His scowl deepened. "It seems nothing has changed in the Underdark, apart from the name of its most powerful tyrant."

Cora felt an odd mix of feelings. Guilt, because she felt somehow responsible for the fact that Mephistopheles was unchained. Exasperation, because she doubted she could have done much to change the course of events anyway.

_If we ever get out of here, Valen will want to go back, _she thought. _ He needs to know the Seer is safe. _The idea filled her with gloom. All she wanted was to return to Faerun, to see the passage of day and night, comforting in its predictability. She wished to be around people who were neither perfectly good nor evil, but somewhere in between.

She knew she would follow Valen if it came to that decision, regardless, but she did not ask him about his intentions. _First things first. Make camp or keep moving, if we want to survive this for long enough to consider the future._

As if to prove her point, a pack of wolves emerged from around the corner: she quickly handed back Devil's Bane to its owner and prepared herself for a fight.

0-0-0

Neither sorrow, faith or pain impelled Aribeth to get up and start walking. She was irritated. Unable to return to her prison of ice voluntarily, she found herself both longing for oblivion and dreading it. Her thoughts also kept coming back to the people who had woken her up.

_Pray to Tyr, she said. As if it's so very easy, after all that I have done._

_I'll not do it. Certainly not on the suggestion of some tiefling from who-knows where. How did Tomi get mixed up with such a motley band? Then again, the halfling's nothing more than a convict. _

_And what are you, oh great Lady Aribeth, to look down upon anyone? His crimes were paltry compared with yours._

Tiring of her ongoing arguments with herself, she strode onwards, not knowing where she was heading, until she saw a group of spirits huddled close in the usual spot where they congregated.

_Strange how they choose to stand together, even though they are all caught up in their own private Hells. Was this why I thought I could organise them?_

Their numbers had thinned out considerably since she last ventured outside the cave, and she guessed that some had drifted elsewhere, perhaps to the inn, even though they would never feel warmth again. Approaching the group, she heard a sound that she once might have called unholy, an agonised screaming. Aribeth saw a flash of light envelop the woman, and all at once she was gone.

She almost dropped to her knees as a wave of pain passed over her: involuntarily, she whimpered, and she heard other voices echo her own. "What's happening here?" she asked, addressing no-one in particular.

Only one man answered her. "Lost, lost, yet not in the ground, not with an end that won't make a sound." He giggled like a halfwit, which only irritated Aribeth more.

"Speak sense, man! I've no patience for nonsensical riddles. Where did she go?"

"Gone, gone, every one, to march in time to the devil's drum," he intoned.

"Which devil?" she said sardonically. "There's hardly a shortage of them here."

"Swept off to war without a clue. Next, damned soul, it could be..." He lifted up a shaking hand to point at Aribeth, but then he faltered, a spasm crossing his face_. _He screamed, just like the other ghost had, and the pain came again, unbearably sharp. Aribeth closed her eyes involuntarily: when she opened them he was no longer there.

"It could be you," she said aloud. "That's what he was about to say, wasn't it? Tell me!"No-one answered, of the few who were left: recognising some of them, she knew they were either too mad or too close to becoming Lost to answer her.

_It's not my concern, _she told herself, only to realise a moment later that she was deluding herself. _It could be you. _Deciding that it would do no harm to make a few enquiries, she remembered that the sensei at the nearby temple seemed knowledgeable. Her only other idea was to seek out Tomi's companions. _Since they seem to enjoy pestering people with questions, they may have found out something that I don't yet know._

0-0-0

For someone who had often communicated with Baatezu, Elista found that she was not comfortable with the Hells at all. It was not just the bitter cold which made her suffer, although she found it wearing since she needed magical shielding to avoid hypothermia. Her mind found Cania hardest of all, not her body.

Elista had lived alone for the past decade save for a couple of feline familiars, yet she was not plagued by loneliness during that time. She had kept herself busy, and there were people living nearby who she could call upon if she felt the need for a gossip. _I'm not so different to a cat, in my elder years. Give me a warm fireplace and familiarity, and I'm content enough. _Here in this inhospitable plane it struck her that she was both homeless and friendless: she might be able to use her magic as a route to earning her keep, yet she felt vulnerable. It had not escaped her notice that many of the living residents were slaves. As for the tortured ghosts that haunted the city, they made her feel worse, for she knew that it would take very little for her to join their number.

After her tense meeting with Cora she had gone back to the Reaper's Realm for a while. It occurred to her that there was one potential escape route. If the Reaper was incapable of opening his own portals, could she not make one of her own, taking her back to safety and warmth? She knew that once she died she would return here, bound to this place eternally, but she still longed for a temporary respite.

The Reaper warned her that because of her link of fate to Cora, she would likely end up either in another part of Cania or back in the Realm itself. Not heeding him, she took the time and effort to construct a portal to her house. When his words proved correct and she found herself in another part of the room, he had not laughed, yet Elista felt like a victim of a prank. She had no doubts as to whom the joker was.

_How truly ironic that he's not even here to read the punchline, but I'm just one of his countless contracts. My work is done and even though I'm no longer useful, Mephistopheles would never free me._

Perhaps it was such loneliness that drew her to revisit the Temple of the Sleeping Man. If she did not expect a warm welcome from the sensei, Elista suspected that a little flattery might bring her round. It would prove a welcome distraction to talk to a woman of learning, however strange and obsessive she was.

As soon as she entered the Temple, Elista guessed that something had changed. Dharvana sat at her reading-stand, but gone was her shining sense of conviction: she seemed dull-eyed and listless.

"Go straight in if you wish," she said without preamble. "It is not my place to guard the Temple any more, if I may still call it that."

Elista could feel the waves of hurt and gloom emanating from the Sensei. "Am I right in thinking that something is wrong?"

"_I _am wrong – and I don't wish to discuss it with anyone. Go in if you wish," she repeated.

_Either he's awake, absconded or dead_, Elista thought. _ If celestials can die. _As she walked along the corridor, she soon saw her answer, radiant with health.

"I didn't expect to find you awake," said Elista.

"Nor did I," the planetar said, his voice both musical and sonorous. "What brings you here, mortal? Are you another misguided pilgrim, or do you seek something else?"

"I'm certainly no pilgrim," she began, "which is fortunate if you see them as misguided, wouldn't you agree? I am seeking something, although I have no idea if I'll find it here."

"What might that be?"

"Freedom," she answered. _Immortality might be rather useful too._

"A concept wide enough that it is hard to define. One man's freedom is another's prison."

She wasn't ready to explain: although he seemed to be taking an interest, she suspected he would turn judgemental as soon as the subject of infernal contracts came up.

"It means many things to me, some more important and hard to attain than others. At the very least I would like to be free to return home, to the Prime Material Plane. Unfortunately my path is blocked."

"Via the Reaper's portals? A group of visitors told me about it only recently."

"Was a tiefling by the name of Cora part of this group, by any chance?"

"That was the name she gave me. If you seek her, you will not find her here. She left this city recently, along with her companions." His golden, pupil-less eyes regarded her steadily. She knew he was not blind: he could see her clearly enough. _And quite possibly sees into my mind, too. _If she had long been comfortable with her own gift, she always found it somewhat unnerving when the same was directed at her.

"You seem relieved and disappointed all at once," he said.

She knew when someone was digging: she had done the same many times. She did not feel inclined to indulge him, so she asked a question in turn. "We come from the same plane. Did she somehow find a way back?"

"She is outside this city, following in my footsteps. It is hard to say how far she will have proceeded by now," For a celestial being, the Sleeping Man sounded almost evasive. "But it seems we have another guest."

When Elista turned around, she realised why she had not heard anyone approaching. The woman made no sound as she stepped through the doorway: she was undoubtedly a ghost, yet there was more substance to her than some of the others outside_._

The spirit did not look at Elista: her gaze was fixed upon the planetar. "It's been a long time since I have felt the presence of good," said the spirit. "I had almost forgotten what it was like." A mix of emotions chased across her ethereal features.

"I can guess you're not referring to me," said Elista.

"A spirit yet full of life, and so much pain within. I wonder..." said the planetar, his voice trailing off. "... I wonder if it could be you?"

_By the look on his face, i__t seems he is rather taken with her, _Elista thought.

0-0-0

_It could be you._

The planetar's voice was neither mocking or deranged, but the phrase struck Aribeth, and she answered more sharply than she intended. "What do you mean, and why do people keep saying this to me?"

"Others have said those words?" He seemed discomfited by her answer.

"I heard it from one of the other ghosts who drift around the city. Something unusual is happening to them. They are fewer in number of late, and I saw some of them disappear in plain sight, screaming with agony. The ghost who spoke with me suffered the same fate."

"I have never witnessed this phenomenon here," said the Sleeping Man, "but when you speak of screams... I heard them in my dreams, recently."

"I've seen it happening too," said the elderly woman. "Most unsettling."

Neither old woman and the planetar could offer any suggestions about the cause. Even so, Aribeth found herself oddly reluctant to leave. _This place reminds me of times past when I was young and in love, and believed that I was truly good. _

"I suppose I should seek out Tomi and his friends, and see if they know why," she said.

"Tomi? May I ask if this man is your love?" asked the Sleeping Man, a certain pointed curiosity in his tone.

She could not help but laugh, and this time it did not sound as bitter as the last. "Hardly."

"I know him," said Elista. "Or rather, I have seen him in a vision or two. I rather doubt that he's your type."

Aribeth was not too surprised by the old woman's talk of visions: she had already sensed the touch of the Weave around her.

Elista spoke again. "Actually, I was asking after his party, just before you walked in." She turned back to the Sleeping Man. "He travels with Cora. You said something about them following in your footsteps?

"They found a way forward, with my help." The planetar's tone of voice seemed measured, even careful, as if he were not entirely sure of the old mage yet. "I cannot say whether it will prove their salvation or their doom."

"They are quite determined. In that way they remind me of someone else who once worked with Tomi," Aribeth said.

"They are contradictory people, the tieflings," said the planetar. "I sense violence within them, in one more strongly than the other, yet they share a bond that reminds me of my own quest. They have ideals, even if they are shot through with doubt, and that is why I helped them."

"The girl seemed religious. She even suggested that I pray to Tyr in the hope of regaining my shattered faith."

"Cora isn't exactly typical of her kind. She was adopted and raised by a Helmite paladin," said Elista.

"Helmite?" Aribeth laughed, somewhat bitterly. "True or false? "

"You did not follow her suggestion?" asked the Sleeping Man.

"To pray to Tyr? Of course not."

"Why not?" he asked. "There is a sense of loss within you. That much is obvious." Although his voice was soft, she had the impression he was disappointed in her.

_No more than I am in myself. In truth, why won't I do it? Because I am too proud, like Cora told me? No, it's not just that. _

_I'm scared. _

"Once, I was a true believer, a paladin. Now I don't know if Tyr would strike me down or completely ignore my existence," she admitted. "I am not sure which I would find worse."

"The latter, almost certainly," muttered the old woman: if she was being sarcastic, Aribeth could only admit to herself that it was true.

"Will the two of you bear witness to what I am about to say?" she asked, hearing the unsteadiness in her own voice. Taking a deep breath and drawing out her sword, she gathered up the last of her courage, making sure her voice was as loud and clear as she could manage. "On this blade, on my names, both true and given, and on all the good and evil I have done in life, I commit all the days that remain to me to Tyr, for better and for worse. Let it be so!"

There was a split second where nothing happened, the others silently watching her, yet Aribeth felt released from the doubts that had plagued her in the past. She raised her sword, and as she did, a shaft of light pulsed along the blade, flowing through the hilt into her hand, suffusing her entire body.

She had been forgiven, and it was as if all the dark years fell away from her, like a cape sliding to the floor. Truly this felt like being alive once more, but without the arrogance she had once mistaken for certitude.

_I am bound, yet I am free._

"Your trust in the god has transformed you," said the Sleeping Man. He beamed at her in a manner that could only be described as angelic, appropriately enough.

"Fascinating," said Elista. "You look more substantial now. I've never seen the effect of such a vow, only the..." Abruptly, she stopped speaking although her expression spoke of something which pained her deeply. Her thin hands clutched each other.

"Does something ail you?" Aribeth asked.

Initially, the old woman hesitated before shaking her head vigorously, one or two snowy strands of hair escaping from her bonnet. "I won't burden you with my worries. Enjoy your time in the light."

"I never thought I would have this chance again. This time, I must not squander his gifts: I cannot stagnate here, awash with self-pity. The question is, what does Tyr wish me to do?"


	37. Chapter 37 Undone

**Chapter 37 – Undone**

Once Cora and her party stepped through the astral doorway they found themselves in a cavernous room, maze-like, linked by several walkways and gates.

"Keep on your guard," said Valen. "I saw something move in the distance, but it's gone now."

Scanning the scene, Cora noticed a chest sitting in one corner. In the blink of an eye, it disappeared again.

"You thinks that be the mimic?" asked Deekin.

"Normally they just sit there lying in wait," said Tomi. "They don't fly around all over the place."

"Either way, it's no normal chest." Cora was about to walk forward when she reconsidered. "Mimic or not, this strikes me as the kind of place that could be full of traps."

"Then there's only one the man for the job. Stand aside and let Tomi lead the way." The halfling sauntered along, hands stuffed in his pockets: his casual style belied a careful, keen eye. Unfortunately those eyes were firmly fixed on the ground when the mimic suddenly blinked into view above his head.

Everything happened far too quickly. The box's lid opened up like a jaw, and swiftly pounced on its prey.

"Tomi-"

"That be-"

"Watch out-"

"Oh, bollocks!" Tomi cursed, suddenly stark naked as the mimic careered out of sight. The halfling cupped his hands over the aforementioned body part.

As the others gaped at him, struck dumb momentarily, he said "Whatcha starin' at? Haven't you ever seen a fine figure of a halfling before?"

Cora sputtered, nearly choking.

Valen's mouth twitched, as if he too was trying not to laugh out loud. "I never noticed how small your hands were."

"Oh shut up, ya bloody overgrown man-goat!"

"It be true though," said Deekin. "Yous told me they be better for pickpocketing that way."

"This is payback for all those times you nearly caught me undressed," said Cora. "It's about time it was someone else's turn."

"Dunno why it had to be mine, though. I'm catchin' me death here."

Taking pity on the hapless halfling, Cora took off her cloak and handed it to him. "Wrap this around yourself for the time being." It wasn't so bad in the room, but if they had been anywhere outside, he would be freezing to death. "We'll get your stuff back." She watched the mimic continue to whizz around like a demented fly in the distance. "Sooner or later."

As soon as they attempted to corner the mimic, they found themselves fired on by stunted, vicious little men who seemed to view the new arrivals as a potential food source. By the time they had eliminated the creatures and attempted three times to trap the mimic, the joke was starting to wear a little thin.

Cora turned over a corpse: bright gems spilled from his pockets. "I think they were mining these stones. Do you think they're worth anything?" As she spoke, the mimic descended upon another nearby corpse, just far enough away to be out of reach.

"Look boss! See the chest? It eat all the gems. It not seem hostile, it just seem to like eating gems."

"And armour. Let's not forget that. I still don't see how this can help, though." For what must have been the tenth time, she walked past a pyre at the centre of the room, its jet of flame operated by a nearby lever. Not far away, another pile of gems glittered. She waited, and sure enough the box pounced on the treasure. Hostile or not, by now Cora had lost all patience with the mimic's games, and she pulled the lever, hoping to char the wood and shock it into staying still.

Her timing was out and the flames burned too late, but it gave her an idea. She tasked her companions to collect up any of the stones they could find around the room, and once they found enough, she laid a trail to the pyre.

"Yous thinks the mimic will fall for this, Boss?"

"Of course it will. Do you think that thing's got enough brains to know that we're tricking it?" She waited. And then waited some more. She looked behind herself, and only saw Valen, who was starting to pace up and down in frustration.

She was about to suggest that Valen tried to herd it in the right direction – assuming he could get near enough to do any herding – when the mimic materialised at the end of her trail. As hoped, the box ate one pile of gems, then another. It paused not far away from the lever, letting out an audible belch, and Cora wondered if she shouldn't simply try to jump the box while it was close.

As she readed herself to jump, the box leapfrogged over her head and landed on the unlit pyre. Cora quickly pulled the lever and the box burst into flames. "Serves the damn thing right," she said.

"Hold up, my armour's in there!" protested Tomi, and they all rushed in to stamp the fire out.

Tomi's leathers carried a pervasive smell of smoke but were otherwise unharmed. Besides a pile of gems, bright like glass baubles, they found one last trophy inside the charred remains of the box. It was a severed hand, its clawed fingers and livid flesh suggesting infernal ancestry. With a life of its own, it crawled away on its fingertips, intent on some unknown destination.

"Ugh, that's disgusting," said Cora. The thing reminded her of the Relic of the Reaper, not the most comforting of memories.

Her attention was diverted by the sound of footsteps. A devil strode towards them, apparently in a sour mood from the expression on his face. He gripped a katana tightly in one hand, whilst his other arm ended in a stump just past his elbow, bound up with leather straps. It didn't take much imagination to work out what had happened to the missing hand.

The devil kicked a smouldering plank out of his way, the embers floating upwards. "Serves the blasted box right. You can't imagine how long it's had me trapped. Bloody mimics."

"At least you're free now," said Cora. She didn't like the look of him, but she was prepared to be civil to anyone she happened upon, at least until they acted otherwise.

Unfortunately the devil turned out to be firmly in the 'otherwise' camp. His mouth curled in a sneer. "If I saw what I think I saw, I believe you've got a little something of mine, don't you, berk?"

"If you mean your hand, I haven't a clue where it went," she protested, but the devil was undeterred: he launched himself at her like a bottle towards a ship. She jumped aside just in time to prevent him knocking her over, and unsheathed Enserric, twisting around to face him.

_Careful! These outsiders can be tricky._

Metal clashed with metal as she parried his blow, following up with a jab of her own which wounded his good arm. He snarled, but he didn't give up, circling around her. She took his measure quickly, aware she could easily take him on his own: it was foolish of him to face four people, but he seemed too reckless or angry to notice.

Most foolish of all, he paid little heed to the other tiefling racing up to him, flail swinging: Valen hit so hard that he beheaded the devil, the head smashed across the room like a gore-trailing ball.

Cora noticed with some unease that Valen's eyes were glowing a dull, smoky red: the way he had thrown himself into battle seemed an overreaction for just one, relatively weak enemy.

"Good shot," she said.

He laughed in response, but there was little mirth in the sound: he kept a grip on his weapon, looking around as if his sport had been abruptly curtailed and he hoped for more enemies to arrive.

"Righty-o. I'll finish dressing, then," said Tomi, his voice oddly loud in the silence before he wriggled into his leather tunic.

Cora picked up her backpack from the ground: curiously, it seemed heavier than before.

Valen twisted the ring on his finger. He seemed impatient to be moving along. "When the mimic died, another astral door appeared here. Let's go," he said, holding out his hand to her: she took it, and found his skin hotter, his grip tighter than usual.

0-0-0

Valen emerged out into air so cold it felt like a bucket of ice water being dashed over him. Looking around, he realised he was on an island of ice in the middle of the river of lava. Worse still, the astral door had disappeared, as if it was never there at all.

"Oh." Evidently Cora had made the same realisation, but she didn't seem to have any idea what to do, either.

_Stranded. _He didn't like that feeling. To be trapped, not to know where to go or what to do... It made him feel uneasy, and he knew that frustration and anger would follow in its wake soon enough.

"This not looks too promising," said the kobold in his maddening, scratchy voice, although he was the only one who had wings. Valen didn't remind him of the fact: not just yet. Instead, he watched as Cora walked further forward. She was close to the edge, far too close for his liking, and he felt the sharp edge of fear as she suddenly squirmed, twisting round.

"What is it?"

"I don't know – something's in my pack-"

If she said more, he didn't hear her, for some invisible force pushed him into the air before slamming him back down into a deep mound of snow. He cursed, spitting flakes out of his mouth before looking around to see the others in the same position, struggling to their feet. Dimly, he realised that they weren't in the same place any more. No longer were they trapped on an islet surrounded by lava: they were back on dry land, and he could only hope that they were on the correct side of the river.

He had no more time left to consider how this could have happened, as he saw indistinct shapes moving in the distance. As they ambled closer, he saw they were ice trolls. With such creatures, a fight was inevitable.

With the way he was feeling, he knew it couldn't have come at a better time. A shift in his mood had been creeping up on him for a while, more insidious than any enemy: a good, hard battle would test his body and clear his mind.

Or so he hoped.

0-0-0

"So now I find a disembodied fist sitting in my backpack, ready and waiting to propel us across rivers made of fire without any warning. I honestly don't know whether to be thankful or thoroughly creeped out," said Cora.

"Maybes thankful be best, since creepy magic fist thing gots a strong grip?" suggested Deekin.

"I don't even want to think about what would have happened if it didn't." Cora trudged onwards until she saw Valen stop by one of the fallen trolls. At first she thought he was looting the corpse, until she saw the gleam of metal, and his dagger scoring along the creature's flank.

"You're skinning them?"

"We can eat their flesh: it's fatty, but tolerable, and it should pad out the provisions we brought with us."

"The way you describe it, I can't wait."

"It's time we set up camp anyway. The skin might be useful as cover, if you can stand the smell."

"I'll take your word for it," she said, watching him. His movements were quick, efficient as if he was well-versed with ice troll anatomy. Cora had done such tasks before, but never with a troll, and she would have hardly called herself expert anyway. "You're a man of many talents."

"When I was a slave we had to turn our hands to many things, just to stay alive. Even those of us who wanted to die never stopped making an effort to live. I suppose the survival instinct is too strong."

She imagined a younger Valen, perhaps little more than a boy, doing these tasks in some windswept, barren place among others as desperate and beaten-down as he. It saddened her to think of him ready for death, yet keeping himself going out of habit. _It's different now. We'll find a way out of this, and you'll never have to come back here again._

She followed him to a campfire, helping him carry what they had taken from the carcass. Later, after a filling yet barely palatable meal, Deekin and Tomi curled themselves as close to the fire as they could manage without burning themselves, while Cora and Valen stayed awake. "Sleep if you want," she told him. "I'll take the watch."

"Later, perhaps," he said. "For now, I'm happy to sit with you."

They sat watching the fire, talking idly of this and that. Without any effort to steer the conversation, the subject drifted to the past – namely, Valen's past. Because she thought it might help, and because she was curious anyway, Cora listened, drawing him out when he paused.

"Once, my greatest wish – no, my only desire, besides bloodshed – was to please Grimash't. I hated him and wanted him dead, yet I would do anything to prove myself to him. When we were outnumbered in the worst battles, when only a handful of survivors came limping back, he always knew I would be among them, and that I took down many of the enemy on my way."

Cora watched him. She could hear the note of pride in his voice, knew that his skill was something he held on to during his darkest moments, when he could find nothing else to admire in himself. "Then I have one thing in common with the demon after all. I can always rely on you."

He did not turn to her: his expression was somewhere far away. "Occasionally he rewarded his best warriors. It was arbitrary and unexpected, like everything else: he often punished slaves even when they tried their best. But once he gave me his personal maid for the night. That was a rare gesture, and considered a great honour."

She saw the subtle changes in his face, the way he cast his gaze downwards and his mouth twisted in sorrow or regret.

_She wasn't there to clean his room or serve him supper. _She swallowed, feeling as if her throat were suddenly thick with dust. A name came back to her, once whispered in the dark while they shared painful little fragments from their past. "Was it Imogen?"

She saw his chin dip, the smallest nod of assent.

_I shouldn't ask this. Better that I don't know. _She spoke, against her better judgement. "So your master handed her around... for other men to...?"

"She was a slave." The words were ground out between his teeth, and she knew he was angry, as if it was _her _fault for asking. "We didn't get a choice about what we did and when."

She didn't want to hear this. She knew that Valen had more experience than she, after their one night together. Still, it was discomfiting to picture him with anyone else, not least if the woman had been treated like a whore, his unexpected payment for a job well done. At the same time, she had told Valen that she wanted to know all about him, and she wasn't going to shy away now. She waited for him to speak again.

"Later – after Grimash't imprisoned me – she told me I was different from the others. "I..." he took a deep breath, "I don't even know if that's true, any more."

"She wanted to escape the Abyss with you, didn't she? I doubt she hated your guts." Cora hugged her knees to herself. She shivered, although the fire still spat and crackled in front of her.

"I suppose not. She saw something in me, like the Seer did. Like _you_ did. It's strange: my recent past in the Underdark feels more distant than all the years in the Abyss or fighting in the Hells." He stared into the flames. "It's as if the man I became is wearing thin once more, like a ragged piece of clothing."

"But it's you. It's _all_ you. If you were such a bastard, we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now. The good in you hasn't disappeared suddenly. Just as it didn't when you were in the Abyss. You simply forgot your earlier life, for a while." She knew it was all too easy to say those words: she had not known him then.

"I know. I need to hold on to that."

"You will. Speaking of which..." She felt the need to get closer, to remind him that he had someone real and solid and alive, who had never seen him at his most savage and broken. So he crawled over to him, positioning herself between his legs before leaning back against his chest. "You can hold onto me. I'm still here, and that's not about to change."

He shifted, resting the side of his cheek against hers, and she felt the scrape of stubble, in its way as reassuring as the gravelly tone of his voice or the feel of his arm tightening around her. "That you have faith in me means more than you could know."

0-0-0

_Red._

Shapes flickered in the distance, indistinct, shading from burnt orange to black, but mostly a dirty red, the colour of drying blood. He could feel soft, comforting heat underneath his head, and an aching chill above it.

Valen did not know where he was, and yet it felt horribly familiar. He wanted to see clearly, but he could not: he knew that out there in the dark, he was being watched, and he did not know if it was one or many. He only guessed the presence was malevolent. He could never drop his guard, not in this unfamiliar place.

_Not anywhere. _

Whispers came to him, like rustling leaves: he strained his ears to hear.

_Too far._

He saw the flicker again, smelled smoke. It all came back to him now. _Flames. _ He watched as an iron stamp was lowered into them with all the slow grace of ritual. He knew what was coming next and told himself the waiting, the anticipation, was worse than the reality.

_Wrong. _ He heard the searing hiss on his skin as the pain came, sharp and unbearable. He heard his voice cry out, rough as a wounded animal. That was worst of all, for he had broken his promise to himself. He did not want to betray any sign of weakness.

The agony radiated in waves: it felt as if it was burning through to his bones and though the voice carried on talking, his pain-fogged mind could not understand the words. When finally he heard them, he wished that he could not, because he feared it was true.

"Branded like the beast that you are. This is but one reminder, Shadowbreath. You live to kill and you kill to live. That's the only point to your miserable existence, the only reason why I let you survive this long. Nothing else matters to you. _Nothing!_"

The shout echoed in his mind, as if it had been driven within him by the scorch of the brand.

_You live to kill._

Silence fell. He hoped the quiet meant respite, but he knew that wasn't realistic: it would be broken soon enough by more pain and terror. _It always is._

_You kill to live._

He knew he was still being watched, even if his tormentor had gone.

_Nothing else matters._

"Valen?"

This new voice was female, quiet and tentative. He felt a soft pressure on his back, in the same place where the brand had marked him. His skin still throbbed, weeping like the treacherous tears that had leaked from his eyes earlier. Yet this touch felt gentle, careful, almost a caress: it had to be a trick, a way to lull and confuse him further before the next torture began.

"It's a dream, that's all," the voice whispered. Like the relaxed hand trailing down his back, it seemed unguarded. Unwary.

This was his only chance. Without further thought, he moved.


	38. Chapter 38 Stop

_A/N – Cheerygirl6 and Shadowhawke, many thanks for your reviews last time around and sorry about leaving a cliffhanger hanging for 3 months. Gah, where did the time go? _

**Chapter 38 – Stop**

He grabbed an arm, twisting hard back and felt the raw dark satisfaction of hearing her groan in pain, but she rolled with him. Skilled, then. Fast. Nothing broken. Not yet.

"Valen – stop – look at me!" _Angry._ _Desperate. Good._

Yet as she spoke again, something impelled him to break his grip and look, overriding the desperate roar in his veins to hurt something, someone, before it was _his_ turn yet again. If she ran, he could chase her down.

She twisted, faced him fully.

Her eyes were brown and all too familiar.

She spoke fast, words spilling out all at once. Hands up, splayed out in a gesture of warding. _Or surrender. _ "It's me, Cora. Remember? You know me. We're _together_. Whatever you dreamed, it's not real. It's gone."

He knew her now, knew this was _wrong _but it was screaming within him, the urge to hurt, to maim. _Nothing else matters. _He realised he was gripping her arms. Tight enough to warp her bracers.

_Fight me._

Instead, she simply stared back at him: her open, honest gaze reminded him of another woman, another time. "You... don't want to hurt me," she said quietly, and some small part of him recognised that it wasn't a threat, but the simple truth.

He let go, so abruptly that she stumbled backwards before he walked away. With each lengthening step, he remembered. The dream, the waking, not knowing where he was or who he was with, all else drowned by the urges that still raged within him.

He could hear the crunch of footsteps in snow, and knew before he looked around that it was _her_, stalking him.

She called out to him. "Valen! Listen... it was a bad dream. Nothing more. Look, if you need to cool off, that's fine. Just don't walk too far away from the camp... I don't want to lose you."

He whirled around to face her and forced himself to speak, the words coming out almost like a snarl. "Give me some time."

"Fine." That was her way. Always telling him everything was _fine. _Again, the upheld hands. "I'll be by the campfire. Waiting for you, along with the others."

The rage was ebbing even now, but he walked away swiftly, trying to work off the screaming tension within his limbs.

_This will pass. It always passes._

That's what the Seer had told him, in a different time, different place. He had clung on to her words like a drowning man in spite of his outspoken cynicism.

_And now?_

He didn't know what voice to believe. Not when the other grew louder, the call of his anger which could never be satisfied, no matter how many times he tried to drown it out with force, exertion and death...

He walked on.

0-0-0

Cora watched him, only half-aware of the wash of tingling heat over her arm, as he walked away, then in the distance, stood still. She wondered if he watched her too. With the drifting flakes, it was hard to see more than his outline: if the snowfall thickened she would lose sight of him entirely.

"Is this helping, Boss?"

She drew her attention back to Deekin. "Thanks, Deeks. It's fine now. It wasn't that bad anyway."

Deekin not sure what to do earlier," the kobold said as he lifted his paws away. "Yous thinks maybes Deekin should have cast a hold spell on Goatman?"

"Yeah, I wasn't sure what was going on either," said Tomi. "If I hadn't been half-asleep, I coulda tried to knock him out."

"There's no need. Why are you all making such a fuss over this?"

"We're not," said Tomi. "No more than 'im, anyway, or he wouldn't be wandering off in a strop right now, would he?" The halfling sounded out of sorts, almost grumpy, and Cora wondered how much sleep he'd managed to get. Surely any was better than none at all? Since she had been the only one on watch, she felt like the walking dead right now.

_But that's just it, isn't it? None of us are feeling quite ourselves out here. Especially Valen. _"He just got out of bed the wrong side, that's all." Even as she spoke she was aware how inadequate that sounded, when she could only guess what was going through Valen's mind. "Let's just forget about it."

They didn't talk much after that. They sat, huddled around the fire, slowly chewing what passed for breakfast: leftover scraps of troll meat that tasted vaguely fishy and wholly fatty.

"Deekin gots tea from dragon landlord back in the city. At least dragon landlord says that it be tea, but it nots look like the type Deekin used to make for yous."

"He had tea, really?" Cora said. She strained her eyes, looking into the middle distance. _This is getting ridiculous. It's been ages._

She sighed. Waiting and wondering wasn't helping matters. Either she should go out there and confront Valen, or get on with something practical while she waited.

She opted to help Deekin with his planar tea experiment.

"If ya gonna melt the snow for water, watch out for the yellow stuff," offered Tomi.

"Fair enough, but who made it yellow in the first place?" she said, giving the tin of 'tea' a sniff. _Strange, I've almost forgotten what it should smell like, but I'm certain it wasn't like this._

"Deekin, are you _sure_ this is tea?"

She looked up, hearing the crunch of heavy boots on impacted snow, and saw Valen walking closer.

She was relieved to see him, she knew that. _So why this clenching tightness in my stomach? __Probably the after-effects of all that troll meat. _

She faced him, noting the strain clear in his eyes, but they weren't red any more. Bloodshot, certainly, but lacking the infernal glow that never failed to unnerve her.

_If I had pale eyes, would they change too? But I don't lose my temper in the same way. I don't lose myself. _

"Cora. I..."

_Not 'my lady'. Not 'my love'. Just Cora. _"Are you all right?" she asked.

"_I _should be asking _you_ that. _I _am the one who hurt you." Cora heard the undertone of anger in his voice, but this time she was in no doubt that it was aimed within. He shook his head, and snow spraying from his ponytail. "I'm sorry, my lady. Truly, I-"

"We're making tea," she said quickly. "Or at least I hope it's tea. I think there's just enough for all of us."

He shook his head. "I don't want anything. I need to talk."

At the edge of her vision she saw Deekin and Tomi fidget, as if they expected to be dismissed from the fireside at any moment. _I'm not ready to hear this. I don't know what to say. _"We'll talk when we're packed up and walking on. But first, I insist we have tea." She could hear herself putting on an act which didn't reflect how she was feeling at all.

Not that she quite knew how she felt, save that she was ill at ease.

0-0-0

They were on the march again. The kobold was walking in front for a change, guided by the notes in his journal and the halfling at his side. Valen lagged behind at the rear of the group with Cora. At last he had his chance to explain everything to her. So far, it wasn't proving easy at all. His time alone had cooled his rage, making it manageable once more, but he couldn't clear his circling, restless thoughts.

"I'm truly sorry," he repeated, knowing that no words could express his shame and the bitter self-hatred.

"That's the third apology you've made. Don't you think it's best to stop there? I've got to admit you took me by surprise, but there's no permanent harm done. No broken bones. See?" She flexed and extended her arm, and if she winced a little at one stage, he could see she had full range of movement.

Injured or not, Valen could tell that Cora was not her usual self. She was all brisk practicality, keeping him at arm's length. Not that he could blame her.

"It's all right," she said once more, as if trying to imprint the words on herself until she believed them. "It was only a nightmare, and we all have those from time to time, don't we? I had my fill of them in the Underdark and now it's your turn. Lucky you."

Before Valen slept, he had sat holding her close to his chest for a while, until his eyelids grew heavy and he had taken up her offer to keep watch while he slept. He had moved onto his side, his head resting on her thigh and her hands tangled in his hair. He took extra care about the way he positioned himself, bunching up part of his cloak around his head so that he would not jab her with his horns. Cora had found his efforts highly amusing: she laughed and told him not to fuss over her. He felt at peace then, as much as he could in this damned place, because she was with him.

_Safe_. A strange word, for someone forced to learn from a young age how to look after himself, who never expected kindness or mercy from anyone. Stranger still to feel that way in Cania, even for a short while.

His first mistake was to talk about the past before going to sleep, he decided. No wonder the dream had placed him back in that damned cage, waiting to find out what suffering would be inflicted on him next. No wonder the taunting voice in his mind had echoed the same fears he had admitted to Cora. He sighed. All of that was true, yet the cause didn't matter. Only one conclusion was possible: he could not trust himself here, even around the one person he never wanted to hurt.

"Next time we camp, I'll take the watch," he said, and he saw her make a swift nod, as if she believed this was all about practicalities. He spoke again. "In future, it might be safer if I don't lie too close to you."

Her eyes darted to his face, sharp, then dropped. "I guess there's no danger of a broken arm, that way. I'll freeze to death instead," she quipped. Yet her downcast expression betrayed how brittle the comment was, leaving Valen in no doubt that he had offended her.

"I'm not ending this. Unless you..." He left the question unfinished. "I'm being serious," he continued, frustrated. "I could have injured you badly, and that's the last thing I would ever want to do. Yet it nearly happened."

"_Nearly!_ That's the whole point, isn't it?" she cried. "It didn't go that far. Besides, you were half asleep. Stop bloody blaming yourself! It wasn't deliberate."

"Wasn't it?"

She stopped, faced him. "Don't tell me this was intentional, because I won't believe it. Are you claiming that it was?"

"I... I don't even know. Everything was blurred from the dream. I didn't even know where I was, but once I saw you – and knew you - I didn't let go." His mouth tightened. "Not straight away."

"Everything happened so quickly," she said. She didn't look at him, but her voice was soft. "You walked away. That's proof enough for me."

"I only wish I could say the same."

She didn't answer, and he didn't know what else to say, save for another unwanted apology. They remained silent, the two of them, before they started walking again.

0-0-0

Cora was the first to breach the silence. _Can't leave it like this. We'll just keep on dwelling on it by ourselves, and it won't help. _"What was the dream about – if you don't mind telling me?" In spite of Valen's earnest desire to apologise, it was the one thing he hadn't described.

She knew it wouldn't be good.

"Very well," he said, his voice betraying his tension. "As you guessed, I had a nightmare. That's not unusual for me. Often they're based on the memories of battles. Scenes I thought I had forgotten."

"I get those sometimes too," she said. "I hate it when that happens, but you've witnessed far more than me in your lifetime."

"But this... wasn't a battle, because there wasn't any way to fight back. I was in the cage. I mean, the small cage Grimash't put me in after I fell out of favour. I dreamed of the time when he branded me with his name – his way to remind me that I wasn't supposed to have a mind of my own – that I was there to fight in his name, and nothing more. I couldn't... it didn't feel like a dream. I was _there. _Or so it felt._"_

As he spoke, she remembered the first time she had seen his scars, before they were lovers. Before they were even friends. His tone of voice was the same, slightly stumbling as if he struggled to force out the words but was determined to see it through anyway. She remembered seeing the brand, now faded by his resurrection, among innumerable silver scars from past beatings. He was the kind of man who shrugged off injuries without flinching. She'd witnessed that many times with her own eyes.

_Didn't he once tell me that demons knew how to torture?_

"You weren't just angry. You were frightened," she said.

She didn't know why she blurted that out. He was a proud man, in spite of all the torments and humiliation he once suffered. She wouldn't have blamed him at all if he refused to admit it.

Yet she saw the quick movement of his throat, the swallow before he said "Anger is easier for me. Too easy."

_I felt afraid, just for a moment after you woke up, when you looked at me and I didn't know if you really saw me. Even now, I'm scared. Not of being injured, though I don't want that, would never wish for that. I couldn't live with a violent man. Not one who aimed his rage at me. I've never understood women who suffered that treatment and stayed. _

_But I didn't know what to do, earlier. I'd know exactly how to act if it was an enemy. I'd fight back, and only run away if the odds were poor. I wouldn't just stand there, staring at them. Frozen._

_I'm terrified you're right, and that I'll lose you. Not to battle, or to the ice, but to someone I don't know. The demon within. _

She nearly confessed her fears out loud, but she stopped herself in time. She wasn't ready to admit how vulnerable she felt. _ I mustn't forget that I'm in charge of this group,_ she told herself. _It won't help party morale if I start cracking up._

So she talked about him instead. "A dream like that is bound to play tricks with your mind. Especially when it's a memory rather than a normal nightmare," she said.

"Do you remember what I said last night, about the past seeming closer here?"

"I remember, but you know that it's not true. You killed that bastard of a demon a long time ago."

"I know that. And yet... this place makes me feel like I'm there. This isn't the same as the Prime. So much of the landscape is shaped by belief, or so people say."

"Then that's the answer, isn't it?" she said, standing still again. "Try believing all will be fine, Valen. For your own sake, and for mine. I'm serious. Indulge me... please. Try to believe you'll get through this with both of us unscathed." She said it with all the conviction she could muster, her best attempt at convincing herself, as well as him.

She even closed her eyes afterwards, as if making a wish.

_I've made so many wishes or prayers in my life, and I'm not even that old. I'll have to hope there's no limit._

"You're not like anyone I've ever known before," Valen said.

She laughed without understanding why. "I suppose not. I always seem to end up with random devilish body parts sitting in my backpack, for a start."

"You know I didn't mean it _that_ way." He was smirking, though. After all his guilt, that was a positive sign.

"So I'm different." _ I _a_lways felt that in Faerun. Like I didn't quite fit. "_In a good way, I hope."

"Always. You're strong. In more ways than you realise."

_No. I'm not. I'm driven, but I don't even know why, half the time. I'm plagued by doubts. I'm just good at putting a brave face on things._

Again, she wanted to admit that all was not well with her, but she couldn't do it yet. She stayed quiet, only offering him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. _If you believe me, maybe that's all that matters._

He reached for her hand tentatively, as if he wondered if she would snatch it away. She didn't.

0-0-0

By the time the group approached the next gateway, Cora was walking with Valen's arm around her waist and his cloak draped halfway across her shoulders for extra warmth. Progress wasn't made any easier this way, but it made her feel better, all the same.

Up ahead, Deekin glanced backwards, and she smiled as if to say _we're fine. Crisis over._

It wasn't the first time he had checked upon her. Valen saw it too. "For such a small creature, he's quite protective of you."

"Never underestimate Deeks," she joked. "Next time you have a bad dream, you could end up caught in a Hold spell. Or hit in the backside with a stun bolt."

"I wouldn't blame him if he did," he said. Not after today."

"It's not going to happen again," she insisted.

She glanced sideways. Judging from Valen's pensive expression he was still feeling unsure of himself. _How can I expect him to be free of doubts? I'm not._

She cast the thought aside as she neared the others.

Tomi winked at her. "All lovey-dovey again, eh?"

She grinned. "That's right. You can now go back to telling jokes about us, and Deeks can resume his note-taking."

Valen had disengaged himself from her, and was walking over to Deekin.

"Kobold," he began. "There's... something I need to ask of you, in case you ever see me out of control again. I trust that you'll know what to do if Cora is in danger."

Deekin's eyes grew more saucer-like than ever. "You mean you wants little Deekin to kill yous?"

"_What?"_

"No!" interrupted Cora. "Don't even consider it, Deeks. That... that's crazy talk."

"Deekin nots entirely sure that Deekin could do it anyway. Nots without help."

"I _meant_ that you should stun me," snapped Valen.

Deekin shrugged. "Okays. If you gets all angry in future Deekin can do that, but maybe backs off for a while, in case yous feel mad about it later on?"

Cora placed a hand on Valen's arm. "You _do _realise I was only joking about this?"

"I know." He looked down at her hand before raising his eyes to hers. "Even so... I'd rather you have a back-up plan if anything goes wrong."

Cora knew Valen was suggesting it for her sake. She also knew that it probably made him cringe a little inside, asking such a favour of Deekin. She had a sneaking feeling that both of them had grown to respect each other, but neither seemed at ease with expressing it. "All right," she said, relenting.

"All sorted out then?" said Tomi. Under his breath, Cora heard him add "Blimey. You lot are hard work sometimes."

Cora could hardly blame him for that sentiment. It was time to move on, in every sense of the word. She turned back to Deekin. "Any word on what lies beyond?"

"Umm..." Deekin flicked through his journal. "Nope, that not be it... nope, that be drawn upside down for some reason... oh, heres it is! Sleeping Man says something about fiery pools. Again. He thinks there be ways to cross, some kind of puzzle confusing him. He not needs to figure it out because of wings, though."

"Clear as ever. I'm beginning to harbour some serious resentment that he didn't come along to guide us," said Cora. "Oh well. It's a good thing that you took notes. I can't imagine how lost we'd be otherwise." She sighed. "Are we all ready to move on or do we need another rest stop?"

Tomi craned his neck, looking down at Deekin's scribbles before the kobold snatched the journal away. "It didn't mention any battle-crazed devils, did it?"

"Nope. Not yet anyhow."

"That's a relief. Let's go. At least we might get the chance to warm up."

0-0-0

Tomi had an unspoken rule when walking through any kind of portal. Apparently the others understood it too. _Don't move immediately. Check what's in there first and get ready to run or fight_.

Tomi squinted into the gloomy interior. Even with his training as a shadowdancer, his eyes still needed to readjust after coming out of the endless snowscape outside.

_I'm not freezing my arse off in here. Well, not anywhere near as much as before._

From what he could tell, he couldn't see any lava lakes up ahead, but it was warmer, no doubt. He was in a cave, but one that showed some signs of habitation, Two doorways were up ahead, one on the left and one on the opposite side of the room. The opposite side was blocked off, a sturdy metal grating over the door. _And what's the prize for guessing that'll be the way we need to head? Still, nothing's unpickable when you know how. _A few crates littered the floor.

_Hold up. Sounds like someone's home._

He heard voices coming from the other room. He couldn't make out words. Not yet. But one accent stood out. _Why is it giving me the creeps?_

"Did you hear that?" whispered Cora as she crouched down.

"Yep," he whispered back. "Dunno why, but I think I know one of them."

"Aribeth's here?"

"Nah. Sounds like a bloke." _Wouldn't it be a turn-up for the books if the ghost of Fenthick was in here?_

_Oh come on, Tomi lad. What would be the odds of seeing anyone else from Neverwinter? _

He crept over to the doorway, gesturing to the others to stay back. He craned his neck, trying to make out the gist of their conversation.

He couldn't hear a whole sentence, but he caught a few key words.

Death.

Murder.

Leader.

Long Death.

He returned to the entrance. "I'm buggered if I know what they were on about, but now I'm dead sure I know one of 'em."

"Friend?" whispered Cora.

"Not exactly."

"One of your marks?" added Valen.

"Not quite. Er, maybe I borrowed one or two things, just the once. Or twice. And forgot to give 'em back, as you do. I knew him from Neverwinter, worked with him a couple of times until my mate got sick of having him around. He's not exactly a barrel of laughs, is Grimgnaw."

"Ominous name."

"Yep. Grim by name, grim by nature. He belonged to some weird death cult. To be honest, he's a nutter." _And I say that to the present company. _

The door opened and Tomi stepped forward. _'Spose I'd better be friendly. For old time's sake._

"Ello there Grimgnaw, remember me? Tomi Grin to the ladies, Grin to me mates and Mr Undergallows to you. Would ya believe I bumped into Lady Aribeth not so long ago? Never knew it was such a small multiverse before. The way things are going, I'm half expecting Boddyknock to turn up next."

Grimgnaw didn't crack a smile.

_Not that I expected one. Miserable shiny-pated git._

"Ah, yes. You're the little worm of a pickpocket who crawled out of prison at Nasher's bidding."

"You're getting your facts a bit mixed up, mate. There's no prison I can't break out of, see? And if someone wants to pay gold for me skills instead 'o trying to string me up, I'm not gonna refuse." He pulled himself upwards, standing on the balls of his feet. "Didn't see you saying no to the money either, come to think of it."

Grimgnaw didn't answer. His attention had turned to Cora, simply watching her in silence. Tomi noticed that Valen had moved to flank her and was standing very still, his hand hovering over Devil's Bane but not yet touching. Cora didn't look too relaxed either. Tomi wondered if he should explain that Grimgnaw wasn't exactly the flirtatious type.

Tomi saw movement beyond the monk, and realised that just for once, he hadn't been paying enough attention. A heavily armed group emerged from the doorway. One of them appeared to be a lich.

_Lich? I don't get it. Doesn't Grimgnaw hate the undead even more than he loves death? _Tomi didn't comment out loud but stored the fact away, so he could take the piss another time. Preferably when Grimgnaw didn't have company. _Hang on. Isn't that Maugrim standing back there? Next to what... a sodding minotaur? No wonder I thought they looked unfriendly. Still, there's a woman standing over there in a leather corset and boots. So it's not all bad news._

"I have heard of a woman such as you," said Grimgnaw to Cora. Aren't you the one that Mephistopheles sent to replace him, so that he can stay in the Prime?"

Tomi saw Cora blink in confusion, before she schooled her expression to something more blank. "Replacement? I hardly think so. Wouldn't I be sitting in luxury on some throne, wherever Mephistopheles usually lives?"

"Mephistar," offered Valen. Grimgnaw glanced at him coolly then turned his attention back to Cora as she spoke again.

"It's clear to me that you're mistaken." Cora stood up a little straighter. "We're on a long journey. Unless you and Tomi want to chat, it's probably best that we take our leave soon."

"No thanks. We've caught up enough," said Tomi. "You were never the type of dwarf to sink a few pints with, were you Grim?" He was convinced that they were unlikely to get out without a fight. In his pockets, his fingers closed around a flask. Even Deekin had reached for his lute and was tuning it up in an overly casual manner, as if preparing himself to sing the Doom song.

"The only thing clear to me is your propensity for lies," Grimgnaw told Cora. "Now that Mephistopheles is gone, Cania needs a strong leader. I intend to take that role."

"I don't appreciate being called a liar," said Cora. Her fingers curled around Enserric's hilt. "But if you want to try to rule this plane, go right ahead. Go to Mephistar and play your power games with the devils. What happens here isn't my concern."

_That's a relief,_ thought Tomi. _ She's not getting all mixed up in local politics, this time around._

"You seem unaware that I know of you, know what you are," said Grimgnaw.

Cora stiffened. "My race is hardly a secret."

"During my life I served the Silent Lord, Death, and I knew of all who sent souls to my master. How many did you send? Hundreds? Thousands?"

"I serve Helm. I help those who need my aid. That's why I-"

"You lie even to yourself." For the first time. he smiled. "I need to remove all and any threats to my power. Including you."

That was the signal they were all expecting. Tomi heard the hiss of drawn metal as Deekin bawled out his song. Cora and Valen were already on the move, leaping forward.

_Not the flask. Too risky._ G_et the lich!_ Tomi blinked into shadow, cloaking himself and calling a wraith even as he sneaked around the combatants, blade in hand.

He was so close. Almost at the wizard's back when he heard the incantation and the echoing tick of a clock. _Huh?_

He took one more step which felt unnaturally slow and tried to raise his blade.

_Oh, shit. _

_Time. _

_Stop._


	39. Chapter 39 The Whole Truth

_A/N – I think I inadvertently cast Time Stop on my own story. That said, I have a couple of draft chapters waiting in reserve, so I can say with confidence that more will come after this._

**Chapter 39 – The Whole Truth**

As time sped up, Cora felt pain rip through her. She fought the urge to look down or check for injuries, forcing her aching limbs to move. _Damned mages. _She dodged past Grimgnaw, seeing the lich, Tomi shadowing him.

The lich raised those grey hands and her sword was there, slicing bone. The incantation stilled.

A fist hit square in her back. She twisted around, tried to knock Grimgnaw back with her shield, but he dodged, graceful in spite of his stocky build. And there was Valen flanking her, mouth snarling a curse, flail swinging wide.

A bolt ricocheted off her helm as she turned back to the lich, now weak_. _Just in time, she saw the huge hammer swing down to her right: she rolled to the ground before scrambling up to face the minotaur. Too late, she saw the hammer fall again. It wasn't aimed at her.

_Valen!_

She saw him drop.

"Heal him, Deeks!" she yelled.

_Don't look. Fight._ Grimgnaw was pummeling her again, but his blows were weak, swaying like a drunk as he bled from a deep gash to the head.

She finished off the job with a grim relish, as Tomi rushed off to a far corner of the room. _Archer? Didn't see._

The minotaur was closing in on Deekin, who half-run, half-flew to stay out of his way, all the while singing. Cora chased them both.

The stinging jolt of a spell crackled through her even as she saw the tell-tale glow of a portal at the opposite side of the room. _More? Just concentrate on this. _Forgetting the minotaur, she attacked the mage who materialised beside to her. "Hiding, were you?" she panted. "Coward."

"In Tyr's name!" 

Cora knew that voice from somewhere. Still fighting, she glanced left, saw Aribeth run from the portal, sword raised.

_Don't think. Fight!_

The mage began chanting and she turned back only to see a bolt of magic hit him in the chest, knocking him back.

It wasn't one of Deekin's spells. She couldn't look around. She moved in, her blade finding purchase and twisting. Turning back, she saw Aribeth, Tomi and Deekin all fighting that damned minotaur. She ran forward, keen to be the one to deal the killing blow.

She wasn't. An arc of crackling lightning struck the minotaur, and she saw him twitch, caught helpless in the field before he dropped to the floor. _Accident?_

She looked back towards the source of the magic, and spotted a familiar face. Madame Elista stood in front of the portal, her hands still upraised as if ready to cast another spell.

_She's here? She helped? _

Still confused, she turned on her heel to check there was no-one else left to kill. Her guts twisted as she looked beyond the prone minotaur. Valen was still on the ground. She dropped to her knees.

_Can't be. Wake up. _She bent down, wiping blood from his face. He was warm. _You can't be dead. _

"Boss. Deekin tries his best to heal him, but minotaur chases Deekin halfway through. Deekin not gots much left, but maybe tries again?"

"Allow me." Aribeth knelt beside her. "Let me see if I can heal him."

Half-dazed, Cora let Aribeth take over. The paladin cradled Valen's head between both hands. Her eyes were shut. So were Valen's.

"Will he be all right?" Cora asked, aware it was a stupid question but desperate for an answer all the same.

"He's alive, but unconscious. Please, I need to concentrate."

"Of course." Cora felt Deekin tug on her arm. "I'll... let you be."

"Goatman will be all right, Boss, now that paladin lady be here. Oooh, you not looks so good either. Maybe Deekin heals you?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Save it. Just in case it's needed."

"I wouldn't mind some, if there's any goin' free," said Tomi. The halfling looked a mess, battered and bleeding, but Cora couldn't help feel a gnawing resentment that he asked.

"At least you're conscious," she said.

"Yeah, just about. When I saw that portal open, I thought we were goners. Lady Aribeth had bloody good timing, coming back when she did."

"That's true enough," said Cora with feeling. All she could do now was wait, and she had never been good at that.

0-0-0

She had tried to keep herself occupied, dressing her wounds and making sure that all of the looted goods from their enemies didn't mysteriously dissapear courtesy of Tomi, and still it wasn't quite enough. She had lost count of the times that she glanced back, only to see Aribeth still sitting in repose.

She did not pay heed to Elista until the old woman approached her. She didn't know what had prompted the old mage to come here, after their last tense meeting.

"I am sure he is in safe hands," said Elista. "Aribeth is not the same woman you met before you left. She recovered her lost faith in Tyr along with her powers, hence her eagerness to help you."

"That makes sense," said Cora,"but why are you here? We didn't exactly part on friendly terms last time."

"In a hostile place like this, perhaps we Primes must do all we can to stick together, don't you think?"

Cora realised that she didn't feel angry at the mage any more, but she wasn't convinced she could be trusted either. "I'm not so sure about that, Madame Elista. I think you've been holding back on something, and I need to know the truth."

If a flicker of unease passed the old woman's face, it was quickly masked. "I'm willing to help if I can."

Enserric's voice broke into her thoughts, quite suddenly. _Did I hear you mention the name Elista?_

_I did. I need to ask her..._

_I remember her name. I can't believe that I had almost forgotten it! I imagined her growing older, but never like this. Unsheath me, so that I might see her more closely._

Cora couldn't make much sense of the sword's ramblings, but she took him from the scabbard anyway. Elista took a step back, but stilled as she saw the blade.

"I... saw him. In my final vision before I died," the mage said, her voice shaky. She was looking straight down at Enserric.

"What's going on?" asked Cora.

"I believe I know your... sword."

_I need to speak with her. _

They spoke simultaneously, mage and sword.

_Enserric, can you explain?_

_Allow me to speak with her. Do you remember me telling you that I fathered a child many years ago? I never told you her name, but I always knew she would be elderly by now, if she was alive at all. _

Whatever Cora was expecting Enserric to say, it certainly wasn't that. _Seriously? You're her father?_

_At this stage I cannot be certain, but there's only one way to find out, is there not? Give me time to talk with her, and I will be happy to explain all later, if you so desire. _

Cora conceded, handing the sword over to Elista. "You may speak with Enserric for a while. But in return, I need to talk with you later, and I want your promise that you'll be truthful."

Elista nodded. "I promise."

Cora turned away, leaving them to confer in silence. Much as she was surprised by Enserric's news, nothing seemed very important, compared with Valen's condition.

She walked over to him, treading more softly than usual, and stood beside Aribeth. She did not speak, but Aribeth looked up and offered her an encouraging smile. "All is not lost. I feel some change within him now, and I sense he may come round soon."

Cora knelt down Valen's side. To her eyes, he appeared in the deepest of slumbers, or completely out cold. Yet at she extended her hand out towards his face, she felt the warmth of his breath on her fingertips, and the faintest tremor of his lips.

_Or is it my hand that's trembling? _

She lifted her hand away and heard him groan then, as if awakening from a bad dream. He remained asleep, though.

"I believe my healing pains him, just a little," said Aribeth. "Yet it heals him, just the same."

Cora didn't ask why. She didn't need to.

_Wasn't it like that with Dad, all those years ago?_

She remembered it only too well. The first time she'd ever faced real danger, and the healing that followed.

"_It hurts like Hells!"_

"_Haven't I told you not to use that expression?" Amadei looked irritated. Cora couldn't quite __understand why she hadn't been lectured yet about taking stupid risks. Yes, she'd barely been __training with the sword six months, though it had been almost every day. No, she shouldn't have gone to that graveyard alone when it was reputed to be haunted, so much so that the Order were going to purge the place. _

_One of the young squires had told her they'd be going there soon, his voice full of pride. She knew she wouldn't be allowed, and the boys would brag about it for weeks. So she went to see. Just one quick look, first peering over the high fence, then scaling it because she couldn't see enough from there. _

_Skeletons weren't supposed to move. They weren't supposed to run at her, dagger in hand._

_She hit it with her borrowed sword, heavier than the wooden one she used for training. She was just a stupid weak girl who was about to die. "Helm help me!"_

_She didn't hear or see the god, but somehow, after a few panicked, inexpert blows, the monster fell. She didn't stick around to see if it would get up again. _

_Later once she was safe at home, it wasn't the prospect of punishment that hurt her. It was the healing. Dad had healed her in the past, for little things like cut knees or the cough that didn't go away for weeks, and she'd hated every moment of it. This time it was worse, because one injury was deep. The healing itched and burned. _

"_If you're going to get yourself into scrapes like this – and you shouldn't, especially when you have no idea of the dangers – then you'll have to face the consequences. That includes gritting your teeth and putting up with my healing."_

"_But – ow! Why does it itch if it's good for me?"_

"_It's not the same for most people." She could tell Amadei was struggling with his words, but she didn't know or care why. She was too busy squirming while the light emanating from his hands set her teeth on edge. _

"_You're... let me put it this way. Think yourself lucky you're not one of the undead." he said, his voice betraying strain._

"_Why?" Even then, she'd known that was an idiotic question._

"_Because healing would kill you."_

Back in the present, Cora watched as Valen stirred, but still he did not wake. "His blood reacts to the healing, doesn't it?"

Aribeth nodded. "Not in any life-threatening way. I would call it an irritant more than anything else, for he is more human than demonic. You can rest assured that it does him more good than harm."

"I know. Thank you."

She heard Valen snarl then, as his body twisted. Aribeth lifted her hands away, not alarmed, but cautious. Cora moved closer. _I won't let the last time stop me. _

"Valen. It's me. You're safe. The fight's over."

He murmured something, words she couldn't quite catch before his eyes blinked open, clear and blue.

"Over?"

"All over." _Thank the gods you're alive. _"We finished them off without you. Sorry about that."

"I took a blow?" He grimaced. "I feel like a fool."

"Hey, you've had to peel me off the floor a few times." She reached forward, threading her fingers though his hair, light and careful. There was a bump, but it wasn't as bad as she feared.

"I must find a helmet that can clip around those horns of yours, one of these days," she mused. "If you can't find armour like that in the Hells, you won't find it anywhere else." _And here am I talking nonsense at you, because what I really want to say is all too much right now, and I don't want to break down._

He turned his head, pressing a kiss on her palm. "I should have been there with you to end the fight."

"I wouldn't worry. I wasn't alone."

"Good to hear the kobold and the halfling did some work for a change," he said grudgingly, as if they hadn't helped keep him alive many times over now.

"They did more than enough. As did Aribeth, of course."

For the first time, Valen glanced up at the paladin. She sat back, but was still close enough for him to talk.

"I owe you my thanks," Valen said, rubbing his head. "But I don't understand... how did you get here? When I saw you last, you were in a cave in the City of Lost Souls."

"And as lost as any of them," said Aribeth, "at least until I had a profound change of heart." She looked at Cora. "It was thanks to you. Rather belatedly, I decided to follow your suggestion to pray to Tyr. Much to my own surprise I was forgiven. I couldn't go on like I was, brooding on my past failures. So I came here, with some assistance from Madame Elista."

"I remember that name." Valen's gaze hardened. "She offered to help you?"

"She made a portal, centred upon locating Cora," said Aribeth. "She doubted it would work. Fortunately it has."

"Why would she do that?" asked Valen, his voice suspicious.

Aribeth frowned. "Why would she not? She is all alone in Cania, and is as desperate to return home as any of you. Best ask her directly if you wish to learn more."

"She's here now?"

"I have no idea why she came here either, but let's talk with her later," Cora said. "Right now you need to keep still and rest."

Valen sat up abruptly instead. "I made a promise," he said, but before she could ask him what he meant, he got up and stalked towards the mage.

0-0-0

Elista barely registered the others in the room. She was too deep in conversation with her long-lost father, too caught up in matters that belonged to the past.

_There I was, enthralled by in the idea that Undermountain would grant me both riches and the kind of immortality Halaster still enjoys. Well, as you can see, I gained some form of greater longevity, but not in the way I hoped. That damned room... let's just say it was a desperate situation and a misfired spell. _

_Magic can lead us down some unexpected paths, that's for sure. _

_Indeed. Tell me... after I left, did your mother say she missed me at all? Even a little?_

There wasn't really any tactful way to tell him, but then, Elista was aware that Enserric had gone out on his grand adventure of his own free will, leaving behind not only an ill-tempered wife but a child. _Do you really wish to know? _ _She didn't have one kind word to say about you._

_Embittered harpy! I suppose she found someone new, in time?_

_The local butcher. Within a year._

_That greasy swine? Pah! And she used to say I had a roving eye... _

_Don't you have a thought for how I was getting along, with a new stepfather and no idea whether you were dead or alive?_

In fact she'd got along just fine, if 'fine' meant living in a new household where she felt like leftover baggage, and where any talk of magic or her father was forbidden. But she still wanted to make Enserric feel guilty.

_I really don't know what to say, my dear, apart from the fact that I never knew it would come to this, and that I am sorry._

She didn't know what she felt, in truth. It was all so long ago.

Enserric spoke again. _My life, or what survives of it, was suspended in a dusty silent room. It was dreadfully humdrum until Cora found me. In all the time in between, you were growing up... growing older. It's clear you became a mage, and for that I am proud. What I don't know is everything else about your life._

_Everything? _ _I am rather old, so there's a lot to tell. _Not that she wanted to tell all of it.

_Watch out! _

Confused by Enserric's sudden cry, Elista reacted slowly. Valen leapt towards her. His left hand grabbed Enserric, throwing him across the room, as the other closed on her throat.

She tried to speak, whether to protest or cast a spell she didn't even know. She could barely breathe, and only a small, gurgling sound came out. Around her, she heard the others react, as confused as she was.

"Is this how you thank those who helped you?" cried Aribeth.

"You know nothing about her, paladin," growled Valen. "Stay out of this."

Cora gripped his arm, though she didn't attempt to pull it away. "Valen. Let go._" _

"I promised I would kill her."

"I never asked you to!" cried Cora. "How can I get any answers from her if she's dead?"

Valen turned his attention to Cora, but kept his hand in place: the pressure loosened only slightly. Yet as he looked back at Elista, some of the heat had faded from his eyes.

"Talk," he said. "Don't even think about casting a spell." At last he let go, and Cora stepped forward in his place.

"Rest assured you're safe... for now. You said you would tell me the truth earlier. I want you to tell me about Mephistopheles – and before you say a word, I _know_ you worked for him. He told me, before I died. I want to understand why."

"You didn't tell me about that," said Aribeth. In spite of her own past crimes, she still sounded as disappointed as only a paladin could.

Elista rubbed her throat while she collected her thoughts. _No going back now. _"I can't deny it. I will tell you the whole truth now, if you care to listen."

"Will you? I wonder." Valen appeared all cool self-control now.

"You will make your own judgement, I'm sure. Yes, I did a favour for Mephistopheles, in the hope of freeing myself."

"Freeing yourself?" asked Cora. "From what, exactly?"

"Probably a contract," said Valen. "There are always a few mortals around who are foolish enough to think they can trade with a devil and win."

"I was young, and going through an intensely unhappy time. I had left home two years earlier, in the hope of finding formal training in magic. My mother had made it clear that if I pursued that plan. I would never be welcome back. I soon found that surviving alone wasn't easy. I joined adventuring parties, for I had taught myself a little magic, but the gaps in my knowledge were too large, and when some of my allies died, I was blamed. Even when I had a lucky break and won a place in a magical academy, it didn't last. I was expelled."

"Why?" asked Cora.

"You don't need to know." She sighed. "Still, I promised you the truth, however irrelevant. I had no money to pay the academy fees, let alone rent, but I was not the haggard crone that you see now. The dean of the academy offered me a bursary in return for some, ah, private tutorials."

"You sold your body for a place? That's disgusting," said Cora.

"You haven't entirely thrown off the shackles of a prim upbringing, have you? He was not unattractive, and that chance was all I ever wanted in life."

"When someone is hungry enough, it seems a small price to pay," said Valen. For the first time, he didn't look entirely unsympathetic, but the moment passed quickly. "You still haven't explained why you signed a contract."

"I'm putting it in context, if you'll allow me to continue. Maybe I would have stayed long enough to graduate, if the dean had not been married. His wife never liked me, and found evidence that I had taken part in some summoning experiements which were banned from the curriculum. The dean was too afraid of his wife's wrath to help me, or else he had tired of the affair. I ended up working in a filthy apothecary's shop in a rough area."

"There are worse places," said Valen.

"I'm sure you lived through greater horrors, but all my dreams were crushed. I returned to my experiments as a form of escape: it was the only time I didn't feel powerless. I met an erinyes – I believed myself immune to her charms, and she was a fascinating conversationalist. Later she introduced me to Mephistopheles, and I was filled with pride and awe that such a powerful being would deign to speak with me. Once I signed, my fortune changed rapidly. Both love and money came to me with ease, and my run of luck lasted well into my middle years. Of course I came to regret my decision later, when I started having the most terrifying nightmares. I was left in no doubt that they foretold my afterlife. When Mephistopheles made his offer of freedom, I had to take any chance I was given."

"So what was his offer?" asked Cora. "My life in exchange for your soul?"

"Mephistopheles did not divulge his plans. He only fed me the slimmest of clues and you were little more than a courier, as far as I was concerned. I did not even realise he was trapped until much later – but then why would he tell me? I only knew that you had a relic he wanted, and if I sent you to the Underdark and the Seer, the rest would somehow fall into place. There wasn't much else to go on."

Cora folded her arms, shifting position. "Nothing more at all?"

"Conveniently vague," said Valen,"and isn't it even more convenient that this mage has followed us? If she is free from her contract, why come here?"

Elista was tempted to remind Valen that without her portal, Aribeth could never have healed him, but she wasn't sure guilt would work on him. _I have told enough truth. Let them believe I am free._

Before she could answer, Aribeth spoke. "Now that you speak of the contract, I can feel it, like a dark cloak around you."

She knew there wasn't much point in lying to a paladin. It was humiliating, confessing like this. Yet her urge for self-preservation had brought her into this mess. If a little more honesty helped her, then she'd have to swallow her pride. "You're correct. He cheated me, and if I die, I shall suffer here here forever. There's only one way out."

"Which is?" asked Cora.

"We all have a common goal, to be free of this plane. You wish to find the Reaper's True Name, and that seems like a fine first step. Why not aim higher still, and find out the True Name of Mephistopheles himself? From all of the whispers I hear around the City of Lost Souls, it seems he is still in the Prime. He will pose a danger not just to us, but to many."

She saw the glance that Cora and Valen exchanged. "We think he may be raising an army," said Cora.

This time, Elista spoke with more confidence. "Then let all of us band together, and find the one thing that could stop him."

0-0-0

Cora could not spend too long pondering an uncertain future, while the carnage of the present was still all around them. Aribeth lingered by the corpses, her expression pensive.

"Sometimes it's hard to escape your past," murmured the paladin.

"You knew them?" asked Cora. "Of course you must have known Grimgnaw, if Tomi did."

"Not just Grimgnaw." Her expression was sombre as she pointed a slender foot at one of the wizards. "This is Maugrim, another reminder of my guilt."

"Maugrim? Why do I feel like I know his name?"

"If you know of my story, then he was one of the players in the sorry tale. After my... Fenthick was executed, I led Maugrim's army against Neverwinter. I continued on that course until I encountered Elden, the sorceror who had once been my ally. Tomi was with him that day, too."

Her words were matter-of-fact but all the time, she stared down at the corpse, her shoulders hunched. "Elden defeated me, but stopped before he could kill me. Even in my bitterness and madness, I recalled our friendship, how I had grown fond of him before everything turned dark. He persuaded me to give myself up. I don't... think either of us thought it would end well, and it didn't. I recall the subsequent trial, but not what happened later. Save for the roaring of the crowd."

"That's probably for the best. Not remembering your own death, I mean."

Cora had read all about it: a speedy trial and a public execution with a bloodthirsty, riotous mob. Later on Aribeth's body was burned, her ashes separated and scattered to the four winds as precaution against her being raised from the dead.

"It's fitting that when I decided to leave my icy grave, I encountered Maugrim again," said Aribeth. "I finished off the course of action I should have taken long ago."

"I'm glad you came here when you did. We've faced larger groups, but these were exceptionally tough."

"I needed to help repay my debt to Tyr. That's why I decided to follow you. You seemed one of the few people I met here who would not accept their fate."

"Will you come back to Waterdeep, if we succeed with our plan?"

"I don't know. I shall stay with you until we reach the Knower of Names, and after that I will decide. In the meantime, could I ask something of you?"

"Go on. Ask away."

"Take the mage with us." She gestured towards Elista. "I know you have doubts. So do I. But when I think of my own past, I know how fear and anger can lead you down the wrong path, and you only realise when it's too late to extricate yourself. I will never make that same mistake again. Maybe she is trying to atone for her mistakes too."

0-0-0

Aribeth took the watch, and everyone quickly settled down, with Elista opting to bed down near the paladin, at the opposite end of the room from Valen. _Pity. I was looking forward to strangling her in my sleep, _he thought, only half joking. He remained doubtful that any contact of Mephistopheles could be trusted, however unwilling.

As he unrolled his pack, Cora leaned close to him, speaking quietly. "I want to sleep by your side."

Strange how he could feel a rush of desire with those words, even though he knew that little more than a chaste embrace could happen, with the others close by.

He remembered the last time, when Cora had taken watch, and he suddenly felt colder. "I don't know if it's wise..."

"I know what you're going to say." Cora pressed a finger to his lips. "You may not trust yourself, but we have to get through this. You won't have a nightmare every time you close your eyes."

"How would you know?" he asked, although he softened the words with a smile. "You're no mindreader, my lady."

She chuckled as she pulled her bedroll closer. "There's much you don't know about me."

"I intend to remedy that," he said. "Starting now. We talked about my past, last time we rested." _It wasn't the best idea_. "I would love to know more about yours."

"Fine," she said. "Anything in particular?"

He considered. "I know all about your time in the floating city, from the kobold's book, so you shouldn't cover that."

"I can't say it's true that we took on an entire army of undead all at once. We picked them off, a few at a time, and kept retreating to a hiding place in between. They were stupid enough that they didn't find us, but it took forever."

"I can imagine. Let's see... I know that you trained in an academy before that time, but little else. Were there many students?"

She wriggled closer to him. "Not at all. It wasn't some huge instution. Nor were there any predatory deans, thankfully. There were never more than four students, so it was like a family home. We all had a small room of our own, and he wouldn't take on more unless anyone dropped out. I thought I would be the first to crack, but I stayed."

"Why did you want to go? It sounds comfortable."

"I was homesick, being the first time away. I sound like a spoiled brat, don't I?"

"Not at all," he said. He might wish he'd had such an untroubled youth, but he would never begrudge her for it. "Go on."

All right... but be warned. Much of this is pretty mundane."

"Strangely enough, that's exactly what I want to hear."

"All right... well, I'll tell you about everyone first. Drogan was a wizard and quite gruff, in the way that dwarves often are, but he had a good heart. He was like a second dad by the end." Her face clouded, but she gave a little smile and carried on. "As for the students..."

"Mischa aspired to be a paladin. We had such similar backgrounds you might think we were friends. Instead I found her stuffy, and always had the impression she was judging me. She disliked the others far more, though."

"What were they like?"

"Dorna was a thief. I had been brought up on lectures about obeying the law, so I couldn't imagine why Drogan would choose to train one. I changed my mind after she disarmed some traps that I was about to blindly walk into. We became friends, although we lost touch later. And lastly there was a power-crazy half-orc."

"As strange a mix as our own party, it seems."

"Exactly. Good practice for a life of adventure. Xanos was a braggart, and he annoyed me so much that we nearly came to blows a few times. It took an argument to make me change my mind about him, oddly enough, and that's when I fell out with Mischa for good."

"What was it about?"

"She was talking about a half-orc baby that had been rescued. She couldn't understand why they didn't kill it on sight. Xanos was furious with her, and so was I. Even though I didn't know my own heritage, I knew I was lucky to get adopted. It made me think."

She paused a while, and Valen wondered if she had gone to sleep. He was drifting away too. Finally Cora gave a low, sleepy chuckle. "You can see why I teamed up with Deekin, not long after."


	40. Chapter 40 The Knower of Places

**Chapter 40 – ****The Knower of Places**

Cora looked down at the huge slumped mass of a balor at her feet. Childish though it was, she couldn't resist giving the corpse a kick. "Considering he was outnumbered, he was a tough one." She looked up, making her usual quick tally. All a little worse for wear, but all present.

Hard though it was to keep time, it seemed as if a couple of days had passed since the new arrivals had joined her. Their journey had continued not outdoors, but within a labyrinth of rooms and tunnels laid out as a puzzle that had dwarfed the Mimic's lair. It was a relief to be out of the cold, but travel proved frustrating in other ways: the warmth was provided by pools of lava, and they had been subject to a constant, unnerving risk of falling in. Worst of all was one room where they had to travel across tiny floating islands, the journey further complicated by hostile winged tieflings, who tended to swoop down upon them like bats. Judging from their battle-cries in combat, most of their foes appeared to be treasure-hunters who saw the new group as competition.

Tomi, as always, cheered up at the prospect of treasure, and they had been lucky enough to find one or two items, although by Deekin's assessment nothing would grant them great wealth. Cora could tell that Aribeth was mildly disapproving of their eagerness to take anything they found, although Elista had no such reservations. More than once Cora had felt obliged to state that the labyrinth seemed to have been laid out as a sadistic puzzle, and they weren't robbing anyone's home, Having a paladin around brought out her habitual guilt: the feeling wasn't entirely welcome even if Aribeth was.

Now, at the apparent end of the maze, they had yet another corpse to loot, but little idea where to go next, as the balor had fought them at a dead end. His corpse yielded up nothing more noteworthy than a pile of scuffed, bloodstained papers, but they were being avidly pored over by Deekin, always irresistibly drawn to the written word.

"Anything useful?" asked Cora.

"They be letters. His Boss be telling him he has to wait for Sleeping Man to come back, and get him properly this time. Big balor thinks it be a waste of time hanging around waiting, but Boss not cares. He tells him to wait here anyway."

"Surely it means just what it says?"

"Not just that, Boss. It means big balor be the next guardian Sleeping Man mentions, so we is close to the Knower of Places."

"I hope you are right, little one. I've been starting to fear we were going around in circles," said Aribeth.

"Did the Sleeping Man mention stepping through a portal?" asked Cora. There was a small portal nearby, its glow casting a golden light over the balor's corpse. She hadn't noticed it earlier, but then they were too busy fighting.

"Umm... nope! Sometimes he forgets things."

After checking the others were ready, Cora stepped forward, keeping her sword close by in case they were mistaken.

"Here goes..."

As the others all reappeared beside Cora, she found herself in a room filled with light and colour. Images flickered over the walls constantly, of landscapes and cities she had never seen, emerging into view with such realism she had to quell the urge to reach out and touch the stone. The others, too, stood still, quiet until one teeming city with a great spire emerged and she heard Valen speak.

"Sigil. It can only be there."

"That's your hometown?"

He nodded, a faint, regretful smile on his face. "I'd know that spire anywhere. Strange, even before I saw it, I was thinking that this place reminded me of the Sensatoriums."

The vision had changed to a more pastoral scene, and this time Aribeth spoke. "That's our tree! The one where Fenthick and I first kissed... I was so innocent then."

_Is there anything for me? _Cora wondered. At last she saw something familiar amoung all the passing images: her neat, cosy room at the Academy, the place she'd spoken about so recently to Valen. _It was the making of me. Why aren't there more places like that?_

A new voice spoke, feminine and melodious, and Cora realised they were not alone in the room.

"You're here at last! I hoped I would see you, but it is not safe to leave, and I could not seek you out."

Cora expected to see someone like the Sleeping Man, an angel with a human's shape, give or take a pair of wings. What she saw instead was a butterfly, brightly-hued but with a tiny, perfect woman's face.

"She's beautiful," said Valen behind her, and Cora did not feel the sting of jealousy: this creature was far too different from her to compare.

"How did you know that we were coming?" asked Cora.

"Tired of waiting, are you, planetar? Twice now, you have come to me, yet my answer remains the same." Cora realised that the Knower was not addressing her, but Valen, a half-smile on her lovely face.

"I am no planetar," he said, clearly puzzled,"and we have never met before."

"Why would you deny who you are?" she asked, clearly disappointed. "You may not have his skin or his wings, but you wear his ring. I see it."

"The ring belongs to the Sleeping Man," Valen said. "He loaned it to us so that we could seek you out."

The Knower's wings batted furiously as if she was troubled, then stilled. "The ring speaks the truth. It fits you perfectly, even though you crafted it for the woman you wait for. Come, let us talk awhile, as we did once before. You may ask me anything you wish... except for questions of _where_."

"I fear she's lost her mind, and healing cannot mend it," murmured Aribeth.

"Let her believe you're her paramour, if it helps us get what we want," suggested Elista.

"Spoken like a master of deception," said Valen drily, but he approached the Knower.

"Very well," he said. "I have a question for you. I would like to know everything you can tell me of your counterpart, the Knower of Names."

"My counterpart? We are not the same, my friend, although I can see why you connect us. We both know what it is to love passionately... and foolishly." Her eyes were fixed on Valen as she spoke, her voice thick with emotion.

Cora glanced at Valen: he looked as uneasy as she was beginning to feel, but he spoke again. "Foolish? Was that because the the Knower of Names was in love with Mephistopheles?"

"Yes. And I with you."

"I..." Valen hesitated, clearly taken aback. "I am not the man you believe I am."

"No? Or do you find it hard to confess your feelings?"

"I suspect that's true, but not in the way she means," muttered Elista.

"I am not in love with you," Valen insisted.

"I know," said the Knower sadly, "but at least you believed me, when I said your love will meet you at the gates of Cania."

"Yeah, and look how well _that's _gone so far." said Tomi.

"Won't you tell me more about the Knower of Names?" pressed Valen. "What made her fall for a creature like Mephistopheles?"

"Who can tell? Perhaps he loved her for a while, before he caged her along with the conspirators who plotted against him. Perhaps her heart was darker than it seemed, or else she simply refused to listen to us."

The irony was not lost on Cora, but she kept her silence. The Knower of Places reminded her of Sensei Dharvana, though the latter was more lucid. She wondered why the Sleeping Man inspired such obsessive devotion in those women, for she could not see the appeal. _Then again, he's quite strange too, with his endless waiting. Like attracting like? _

"The Knower of Names should never have trusted one of the Baatezu," Valen said. "It was inevitable that he would betray her, but we could set her free. All we need is your help in locating her."

"My darling planetar, you are asking me _where, _and I have already said that I will not tell."

Even before he answered, it was clear Valen had lost patience: the jerking of his tail betrayed his frustration. "For the last time, I am _not_ your beloved planetar." He wrested the ring from his finger and dropped it on the floor. "Can you see me more more clearly now?"

At last the Knower truly looked at him. "Whether love was in his heart or not, it was a pretty, pretty thing to believe that he would come back to me," she said quietly. She blinked rapidly, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Very well, stranger. I will not answer your question with words, but with a gift meant for another."

With the faintest quiver of wings, she glided closer to Valen, and handed him a ring. Unlike the , other shining band, it was fashioned from iron into twisted, blackened vines. "I made this for my planetar, but I dare not leave this place to go to him. Let it unite with its counterpart, as lovers do."

Valen slipped the ring onto his finger, then crouched to pick up the other. Once they were both on his hand, the rings merged together, dark and light metal entwined. Yet he seemed to pay little attention to the transformation: his gaze was fixed upon a space behind the Knower of Places. "Now I can see clearly," he said. "There's an astral gate at the back of this room."

"I will tell you one more thing before you go: the spokes on the wheel turned, when Mephistopheles imprisoned the plotters along with his lover."

"I don't understand," said Cora. "Can you elaborate?"

"Remember the spokes on the wheel," she repeated. "I will tell you no more."

Deekin took out his notepad. "Maybes this be worth writing down? Just in case it be helpful later."

Go now," said the Knower of Places, "so that I may forget you, just as my planetar has forgotten about me.

0-0-0

_Waterdeep_

It was late afternoon, and the bar was fairly quiet. Most of the clientele would roll in during the evening hours, and those few left inside were either weary travellers like Amadei and Helene, or one or two locals who used the place as a second home. Because of this, Durnan the innkeeper had ample time to talk. Unfortunately, he had little to say. "I wish I could tell you something of substance, but I can't. The last person who saw Cora alive was a halfling by the name of Tomi Undergallows. He said that Halaster sent her to the Underdark, but we've heard nothing since."

"Undergallows? What a curious name." said Helene. "He sounds like a colourful character."

"That's putting it mildly," said Durnan. "It wouldn't surprise me if he's been arrested, since he never came back to collect his reward. He's wanted for crimes in two other cities, although he only partook in some petty theft here."

Helene frowned. "Oh dear. I don't like the idea of Cora keeping company with that type of person. You actually invited him to help you?"

"I warned her that the reward would attract the worst types of mercenary," said Amadei.

"Heroes like Cora are hard to come by, and we didn't get quite as many responding as we hoped. He reached behind the bar and brought out a letter. "This arrived only the other day from the Hero of Neverwinter. He was travelling when I originally wrote to him, but he wouldn't have answered the call anyway. Neverwinter left him bitter, by the sound of it, and he says he'll never get mixed up in a city's troubles again."

Durnan shrugged, before putting the letter back. "So apart from your daughter, we mostly ended up with mercenaries and sidekicks like Tomi, but he suited the task. Undermountain is infested with traps. Also, drow specialise in assassination and stealthy combat," said Durnan gravely. "If we had limited our call for help to the pure of heart, the drow would have overrun us by now."

"Is it true that all the attacks have stopped?" Amadei thought it best to steer the topic away from Cora's dubious choice of associates or the perils of Undermountain. As a paladin he preferred to speak plainly and appreciated Durnan doing the same. As a husband, he thought that none of this was helping to put Helene's mind at rest.

"We've had nothing since then. I keep a close eye on the cellar in case any stray drow are sneaking around, and also keep a look out for Cora in case she returns via that route. It's been very quiet. Wherever your daughter is now, she has my gratitude, and I speak for all of Waterdeep. I'm sure she made a difference."

"I visited a fortune-teller, a while ago, and she offered to scry for me in a crystal," admitted Helene. "She said Cora was in the Underdark, and that she had found some allies. She saw a kobold, a halfling and a warrior in her company. Does that sound like anyone you invited here?"

"I met the kobold. He had been hanging around the inn and our doorman took pity on him, letting him stay in the stables. Cora greeted him as an old friend, and he went with her to the Underdark."

"That must be Deekin," said Helene, "It comforts me to know that she met him again, but do the others sound familiar?"

"Tomi was the only halfling I invited, but he returned, so it can't be him. As for the warrior, several came to try their luck. Have you got a description?"

"The mage said he was a... tiefling."

Durnan raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure I would have noticed if one came here. My wife had reservations about us inviting Tomi, but I suspect she would have drawn the line at a tiefling."

It was that moment again. The moment where Amadei wondered if he should speak the truth, or simply let it go. "We should not assume all tieflings are evil, even if many have a predisposition that way."

"I'm sure the occasional one turns out well, if they're lucky enough to have a good upbringing," added Helene, a little stiffly. "The mage said he was protective of Cora, so hopefully he's a decent sort."

"I didn't know your daughter well, but she seems more than capable of protecting herself," said Durnan. "If she has skilled and loyal allies, then all the better."

Across the room, a doorway flew open, and a small goblin came stumbling out. He held an equally undersized broom in his hand.

"Master Durnan! Master Durnan!"

"Goodness," said Helene. "What a strange creature."

"You must come. Grovel cleans and scrubs, scrubs and cleans, then Grovel hears noises – tap tap tap!"

"From the well?"

"Yes! Maybe?"

"I'll go." Durnan ducked behind the bar, and picked up a sword and shield. "Grayban!" he called.

The half-orc doorman peered through the inn entrance. "Yes, Boss?"

"Come to the well."

"Let me help," offered Amadei.

"Who do you think is down there?" said Helene. Her expression betrayed her worry.

"We need to find out. It's best you stay here, and go to warn the guards if we don't come back," said Amadei. Helene was not a fighter, never had been. She looked even more worried, but she nodded. After all their years together, she understood the risks.

_It may not mean trouble. It could even be Cora, _thought Amadei, as he followed Durnan into the room.

Durnan approached the well, but did not open the barred metal door surrounding it.

"Is anyone there? Please?" The voice came from below, female, high-pitched, a little tremulous.

"We hear you. This place is under heavy guard," bluffed Durnan. "Who is this?"

"You won't know me, but my name is Lavoera." She said something else but the words were muffled. Her voice rose, sounding almost panicky. "Please let me in, I bring urgent news!"

"She doesn't sound like any drow I've met before," mused Durnan. "They don't ask, they threaten. Shall we?"

Amadei nodded. "Best be on our guard." He drew his weapon, and Grayban fished out a club which had been stowed within a barrel.

Durnan turned the crank, and slowly drew the lift upwards. He unbolted the door with his left hand, keeping his sword in his right. The door opened.

Amadei lifted his hand to cast a Detect Evil spell, but stopped as he saw the stranger. _A deva?_ She looked exhausted and somewhat wary, but she was still glorious to behold, her wings unfurling behind her as she stepped forward. Lavoera was armed, but her mace was strapped to her hip, and she held her hands up.

"Rest assured that I have only good intentions," she said. "Please listen to what I have to say. We don't have much time."

0-0-0

_Cania_

Beyond the astral doorway, the party found a wilderness, blighted by constant gales which seemed even more bitter than before. It sapped their vitality, as if with each step they lost an hour of life. Unfortunately, it had no such effect on the wandering packs of trolls and starving, half-crazed wolves which would come howling out of nowhere. `

They all had their own way of coping: they had little choice if they wanted to survive. Valen poured his energy and fury into battle, for each desperate fight at least warmed him for a while. Cora did the same, and her habit of denying the worst helped her too. The kobold and the halfling shared silly anecdotes with each other to keep morale up, although less frequently now. Lady Aribeth had her renewed faith and sense of purpose to sustain her, and in her ghostly state she was less affected by the elements.

That left Madame Elista. She trudged along in the wake of the others, benefiting from the path they made through the snow, but even Haste spells did little to speed her up. Valen had not thought it a wise idea to bring her, even in the unlikely event that she was sincere. It gave him a grim satisfaction that he was right, and he could see that Cora was getting exasperated too.

"It wouldn't surprise me if she was delaying us on purpose," he said, as Cora took another glance backwards. Earlier, someone had asked Elista to make a portal taking them directly to the Knower of Names. She claimed it was impossible since she could not focus on a mental image of the Knower or her location, but Valen remained unconvinced.

"You could always take her up on the idea she had earlier."

Valen guessed Cora was smirking, although a voluminous scarf obscured her mouth. "I am not a beast of burden, my lady. Nothing will induce me to carry her on my back, no matter how light she claims her old bones are."

"You should have seen the look on your face when she asked. It was priceless." Cora stopped, peering into the distance. "Look."

Beyond the swirling snowflakes, he saw something glinting, all sharp angles.

Deekin approached them. "Umm, Boss. Be that a magic crystal over there?"

"I think so. As they walked forward, Cora added, "I almost hope it's not."

Valen understood why. He remembered the other two, and how he had shattered the first in a fit of rage.

As they neared the crystal, Cora turned around and called to Elista. "You might be interested in this. You can see visions in these crystals."

The old mage suddenly found some stamina, for she caught up with them with ease as they reached the stone. "Fascinating," she said. "I can feel raw magic emanating from this. I used to make do with a sphere little more than a hand's breadth wide. I wonder what I can find out with this?"

_So that's what sustains her, _thought Valen. _Idle curiosity about magic. _

"Step aside, dear. It's best that everyone remains quiet while I prepare myself."

Cora didn't walk away. "If anyone looks first, it had best be me and Valen."

Elista looked incredulous. "I know you can manage a few cantrips, but that's hardly conducive to this work. Learning the scrying arts, let alone perfecting them, takes a good deal of practice and innate skill."

"I've seen enough to know that normal rules don't apply here," retorted Cora, clearly irritated.

"By all means try if you must, but without proper preparation even _I_ can see nothing."

Cora gave a deep sigh and walked past Elista. She leaned close to one plane of the crystal and cupped her hands around her eyes. At first, she said nothing, then it came, in a small, choked voice. "Why _there_?"

Valen took the next side, before anyone else could get to it. As the crystal cleared he saw nothing more than a doorway, heavily barred. The room around it seemed deserted, although to one side was a bar, stocked with barrels of beer. He knew it was not the Underdark: the architecture and the light levels were all wrong.

The others were crowding around him too, now, peering in.

He could hear as well as see the scene before him, and it sounded like thunder outside.

_A storm? Is that why they battened the door shut? _ The tankards hanging up behind the bar all began to shake, clanking together like bells.

With one great crash, the door burst into flames, and the wall around it half collapsed.

_Mephistopheles. _

Valen felt it rise again within him, the rage and disgust, but this time, he was ready. He breathed more deeply as he watched the devil standing among the wreckage, supreme in his arrogance. Mephistopheles strode forward, and in his wake came countless walking corpses, a sea of lost souls.

The crystal dimmed. _I am calm. That's something, I suppose._

He looked over at Cora, who had stepped back, and saw the intense worry in her face. He walked over to her. "Is it somewhere you know?"

"It's the Yawning Portal...or was. The inn where I first went down to Undermountain. At least it looked deserted... oh, who am I kidding here? I don't need any more proof. It's started. He's invading Waterdeep, and we're still stuck here."

Deekin patted her hand. "It not be your fault, Boss. Yous trying your best to get home."

Tomi gave a low whistle. "Dunno about you lot, but right now I'm wonderin' where else in the multiverse is good for a drink or two and a bit of sun."

"We can't run away," said Aribeth. "Especially not me. Now I understand why Tyr reversed my fall. What better way to atone than this?"

"Assuming we can get there," said Valen.

He realised that just one person had remained silent. Elista. "What do you think of all this?" he asked pointedly. "You, among all of us, know Mephistopheles best."

Elista wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself before she spoke, and when she did, her earlier smug assurance was entirely absent. "I hadn't forgotten how frightening he can be, but that was a most effective reminder."

0-0-0

Since the vision in the third crystal, Cora felt a renewed sense of urgency. She knew she could not fight faster or walk any faster, but somehow, she tried, and because of that, the hostile conditions sapped her vitality even more. Finally, the party reached a dead end, facing a long, forbidding wall with a huge metal doorway that even Tomi could not unlock.

Just looking at the wall made her feel sick to her stomach. There was nothing notable about its design save for its great height. Yet something about it made her tense up, and she could not have explained why. Valen seemed on edge too, though he did not snap at anyone. He was ominously quiet.

_I should talk to him, _she thought, _but I'm so damned tired. _Instead, she approached Deekin, who was paging through his notes next to a pitifully small fire. "Any ideas? Have we taken a wrong turn, or does this door open sometimes?

"Deekin not sees much point in a door if it not ever opens, Boss. But the Sleeping Man mentions there be a hole somewhere in the wall. Maybe like the one the archdevil made in Yawning Portal?"

Cora could have done without the reminder, but she said nothing.

Deekin turned the page. "That nots sound good."

"What doesn't?"

"Sleeping Man say it be known as Blood Wars battlefield beyond the wall. That be when he worries he draws attention to Knower of Names, and turns back. Or maybes he be scared?"

_Is that why the very sight of that wall makes me shudder? Because of my blood? Surely not. All wars are terrifying._

Cora looked over at the wall once more. "So that's why the wall is so massive. The baatezu must have made it to prevent the battle spreading further." She noticed that Valen was pacing along the wall as if he was a prisoner looking for an escape spot.

The surrounding area was silent, almost eerily so. "I wonder if the battlefield is deserted. I feel sure we'd hear something otherwise."

"Maybes. Even the war between stealthy drow made some noise. Deekin remembers."

"Perhaps we shouldn't mention the battlefield to Valen yet. Not when we're about to sleep." She felt reluctant to stop at all, given her fears about Waterdeep, but if they skipped it, she doubted they would survive many more fights.

"All right, everyone," she called out. "We think there might be a way through, but let's rest first, and keep it short."


End file.
